


Legends of Winter's Peak

by ashleyfanfic, justwanderingneverlost



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bootleggers, Chivalry, Drinking, Eventual Romance, F/M, Guns, Knives, Lots of Angst, Lust, Mob/gang mentality, Moonshine, PTSD, Post WWI, Poverty, Prohibition, Ramsay is a psychopath of the highest order, Requited Love, Romance, Smoking, Smut, Threat of Rape, Very mild physical abuse towards children, Violence, War Heroes, bran had polio, car smut, discussions of domestic rape, discussions of domestic violence, everybody's parents are dead, gonna be a lot of smut, outdoor smut, premartial sex, psychological trauma to a child, reputation protection, talk of bastards, threat of violence, we're plotting our asses off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 10:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 285,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15411354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyfanfic/pseuds/ashleyfanfic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwanderingneverlost/pseuds/justwanderingneverlost
Summary: Down on their luck, the Starks of Winter's Peak run a bootlegging business in the Appalachian mountains to keep their family afloat. Complications soon arise from unexpected visitors as old and new loves come into their lives and the town of Winterfell is forever changed as legends are born.





	1. I Know Those Eyes and I Know That Touch

**Author's Note:**

> So, something amazing has happened this past week we can no longer stand to keep it hidden. We’re just too happy and in love with it not to share it with all of you.
> 
> Out of the blue, last Tuesday evening meisie sent a picture to Ash of Richard Madden in our chat. Ash loves Richard in case you didn’t know. It was a gorgeous pic. Black and white. He was wearing suspenders, his sleeves rolled up. Our brains caught on fire it was so hot, lol. Then someone said the picture needed a fic to go with it. Rancher and farmer were a couple of the ideas thrown out, and then it hit me. Bootleggers! I screamed it, Ashley screamed it back, and Meisie did too.
> 
> Ash begged us to hush, she didn’t need any more fics to juggle, bless her. But then I whispered in her ear. _We can do it together._
> 
> Next thing we know, plot is pouring out of our brains like water from a faucet and the two of us were so damn giddy you would’ve thought we were high as kites. Nearly a week later and lots of writing till one, two in the morning, we still feel that way.
> 
> Big hugs to Meisiesmut for betaing this for us. We love you! And thanks to all the other tarts for putting up with our craziness this week! You ladies are the best! <3
> 
> We will post updates to this fic every Tuesday. Please comment and let us know what you think.

 

_ Well I don't know how and I don't know why _ __  
_ When something's living well you can't say die _ __  
_ You feel like laughing but you start to cry _ __  
_ I don't know how and I don't know why _ __  
  


_ Well, I don't have many and I don't have much _ __  
_ In fact I don't have any but I got enough _ __  
_ 'Cause I know those eyes and I know that touch _ __  
_ I don't have many and I don't have much _ __  
  


_ Oh darling my heart's on fire _ __  
_ Oh darling my heart's on fire _ __  
_ For you _ __  
  


_ Well I don't know where and I don't know when _ __  
_ But I know we'll be lovers again _ __  
_ I'll see you someday before the end _ __  
_ I don't know where and I don't know when _ __  
  


_ But oh darling my heart's on fire _

_ For you _

 

_ Hearts on Fire - Passenger _

**  
ROBB**

  
  


The heavy weight of the crate let Robb know their deliveries that night would turn a pretty profit. Mountain moonshine, or as the small town of Winterfell called it, The Wolf’s Bite. It was the best product to buy in all the county, maybe the state, never once making anyone go blind. The family took pride in it. 

 

Jon stacked a crate next to his, then Gendry. Arya wasn't allowed to help stack as it might ruin her pretty dress. It still made Robb laugh to see her gussy herself up for running the shine down into the valley. She looked so young and innocent when she dressed herself so, but he knew the truth. His little sister was dangerous, and if their buyers weren’t afraid of the menacing presence she could present, her husband Gendry was usually enough to dissuade them, not to mention her wolf Nymeria that always rode along. 

 

She stood beside the oil lamp reading over the delivery list, a lazy hand in the wolf's fur. “Oh, Gendry, Sheriff Davos is on the list! He always gives us the finest tinned crab! Has it smuggled to him somehow from up north.”

 

Robb looked at her then and stopped loading the truck. “You’ve never brought crab back.”

 

“He makes us come in and eat it,” Gendry grunted. “Says it wouldn’t keep.”

 

Robb leaned an arm against the stacked crates and looked at Jon. “How you like that? They get crab while you and I are slavin’ away up here!”

 

Jon gave a slight smirk. “Sounds ‘bout right.” He placed the last crate into the back of their old beat up Ford and pulled the burlap over top of their beloved merchandise. Robb helped him tie it down. 

 

“Tyrion is on this list, too. He tries to get us to drink with him every time,” Gendry offered with a grin, his white teeth shining bright in the lamplight. 

 

Robb shook his head at his sister and brother-in-law. He envied them and their relationship. Much like Jon, he suffered from a broken heart, only Robb’s love still lived. She was just in the arms of another man. He swallowed at the lump that rose in his throat. She’d already been married a month. When he’d seen them in town together, it took Jon physically forcing him back to the car to keep him from attacking Joffrey. How he hated that little blonde bastard.

 

Arya poked him in the arm and he turned his attention back to her, pushing down the anger and sadness that ate at him like their wolves gnawed old bones. “What’s got that Jon look on your face?”

 

Jon’s eyebrows rose, his dark eyes darting between them. “Sorry? That  _ Jon _ look?”

 

“Yes. Sullen and broody,” Arya quipped, smirking at her favorite  _ brother. _

 

Jon was really their first cousin. Their aunt Lyanna’s only boy. But she’d died to bring him into the world just a few short months after Robb had been born. The man that'd fathered him had left Lyanna high and dry long before that day, leaving the baby boy orphaned at only hours old. Robb's pa, Ned hadn't thought twice about taking him into their home. Jon was their brother in all but name. 

 

“You know? Just like you look,  _ all the time,”  _ their sister drawled. “No one broods like you, Jon.”

 

Gendry chuckled behind her, pointing at Jon’s face. “It’s the eyes. They look incredibly big and sad,” he lamented with false empathy.

 

Those signature sad eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t you two have somewhere to be?” Jon griped, annoyance rippling through his tone. 

 

“Not yet. Not until big brother here tells us why he’s broody,” Arya declared, but her voice had gone gentle. It almost reminded Robb of Sansa. He smirked at the thought. Arya would rile up madder than a wet hen if he was to tell her that.

 

Jon huffed and they all watched him walk away, his hands flexing at his sides. Robb sighed, cutting disapproving eyes at Arya. Jon knew better than anyone what was wrong with him. He wouldn't stick around to watch Arya force Robb to fight his demons out in the open, let alone stay there and be reminded of his own. He no longer had a woman to fret about, she was gone, killed in the field in France by the goddamn Germans while she was trying to help save lives. There'd been nothing of her left to bury, only his memories to haunt him.

 

“I’m not broody,” Robb said, turning back to his sister, “and you two need to get goin’ before people begin to think you ain’t comin’.” 

 

Both having rolled their eyes at his excuses, Gendry tucked his gun into its holster at his side while Arya slipped her little knife into her garter. Jon had gifted her the slingblade before he'd left for the war. She'd lovingly named it  _ Needle. _ She could carve up anyone she wanted with it as pretty as a Thanksgiving turkey. Gendry opened the truck door for his wife and closed it behind her once she and Nymeria had gotten in then jogged round to the other side and jumped in.

 

With a wave they sped off, kicking up a dust. Robb watched the weak taillights disappear down the old dirt road toward town and into the night, sending a prayer after them. They didn't need trouble. He joined Jon in the old barn that housed their still and found him cleaning the equipment, the various hoses already laid out to dry. 

 

The distinct rattle of an engine drawing close filtered through the thin walls a few minutes later. Robb figured Arya and Gendry must’ve forgotten something, but then someone was banging on the barn's flimsy door. Jon drew his gun from the back of his britches and nodded. Robb jerked open the door, hiding behind it, but seeing Jon drop his gun to his side, his eyes wide and worried, Robb stepped out from around the door and there stood Margaery Lannister, the love of his life, beaten and bloody.

 

He had her face in his hands without a moment's thought, frantically looking her over. The silk robe and nightgown she was wearing were both splattered with blood. Her left cheek was swollen and red, no doubt soon to be black and blue. Blood ran from her mouth and nose mixing with the tears that streamed down her face. 

 

Jon went to the door and looked out. With a quick glance over his shoulder and Robb's responding nod, he left them alone. 

 

Margaery broke free from his grasp and leaned her head against his shoulder. Her own began to tremble, her quiet sobs rising above Robb's labored breathing.

 

“Did Joffrey do this?” he growled, unable to contain his fury, but he managed to keep his grip on her gentle, fearing there might be other injuries still unseen.

 

Margaery drew in a few shaky breaths and nodded. He held her tighter, relieved that she’d come to him and decided then and there he would move heaven and earth to keep her from going back to that bastard, Joffrey. “Come on, let's get you in the house.”

 

She pulled back and allowed him to wrap an arm around her shoulders and escort her back to the house. Margaery’s car was nowhere to be seen. Robb knew it was well hidden from prying eyes when Jon emerged from the woods not far from them. “I can send Rickon out to help you...” he offered but Jon waved him off.

 

“He starts school in the mornin'. I can handle it. Take care of her,” Jon said with a nod before he stepped back into the barn, the door closing behind him. 

 

Robb helped Margaery into the house. They didn't get far before her arms went around his shoulders and a fresh round of tears were spilled against his neck. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed and his heart fell to pieces all over again. “I didn’t...this was...you’re the only one who cares about me. I know it. I-I knew it all along.” She shook her head, looking back at him, eyes flooded with tears as she grasped his face. “I-I love you. Only you. I did-didn’t want to marry Jo-Joffrey. They made me!”

 

He brushed down her blonde hair, blood caked in the tendrils. “Shhh, now, Margaery. I already knew all a' that,” he said softly. “Tell me what happened.”

 

She took a steadying breath, seeming to take comfort in the reassurance he’d given her. The Lannisters were influential politicians, their wealth and power known by all in their valley and well beyond, but the Starks didn’t give a damn for the doings of the rich folks down below. 

 

He and his siblings lived on Winter’s Peak far above town under the guise of being farmers, living off the vegetables they sold, but most in these parts knew they were bootleggers. After returning from the war, both with medals of valor, Jon and Robb came home to four siblings all alone, their Ma and Pa buried out behind the house. They'd done what they could to provide for their siblings, but their little farm didn't produce near enough to take care of them all. Especially with Bran's doctor bills. 

 

It was Robb that’d suggested bootlegging. Jon had been adamantly against the idea at first. It was dangerous and illegal, and there wasn't a bone within Jon that wasn't steeped in honor. But the treatments Bran needed for his illness left their wallets empty most months. Jon had finally relented when Rickon came to him crying one night that he was starvin’ and there had been nothing save for stale bread to give him. 

 

Broke as they were, Robb Stark was not a viable option for the Tyrell’s to marry off the sweetest rosebud in the garden, no matter how much she loved the young wolf, and he loved her. They were mighty old-fashioned, and there was land and business involved in selling off their daughter. 

 

She let him steer her to sit down at the kitchen table, then he put on the kettle. He grabbed it up as soon as it whistled, not wanting to wake the boys, and poured it in the cup of tea he’d sat out. He joined her at the table, sliding his Ma’s old teacup over to her. 

 

She smiled softly, tilting it and gazing at the brew. “Thank you. Got something a bit stronger I could add to it?”

 

He gave her a pained smile. “Your lip’s still bleedin’. You don’t want anythin’ stronger goin’ near your mouth,” he said as he stood and found the first aid kit. He sat back down beside her and dressed the wound at her temple. She winced at the harsh cleanser he used. “Sorry, I’m tryin’ to be easy. Why don't you tell me what happened?”

 

Her lower lip quivered as she stared at the delicate flower pattern that ran around the lip of the teacup, tracing over it with her thumbnail. There was blood dried under it. “We were getting ready for bed. He wanted me but I...I only ever slept with him once,” she admitted in a thin whisper. “The night we married.”

 

Robb hated how his face flamed and his blood boiled to think of that sniveling little weasel touching her. 

 

She swallowed and licked at her cut lip. “He makes my skin crawl. I put him off by telling him I was having my monthly and feigned an illness after that. Even had my maid tell him that he could catch it from me and to keep his distance.” She shook her head, tears rolling down her face again. “When I told him I didn’t feel like it tonight, he became enraged. He grabbed me, ripped my gown, and then...he hit me, twice. My head was spinning so I didn't even realize he’d thrown me on the bed,” she whimpered. “He was...he tried to force himself...inside me...” A great sob ripped from her throat, sounding as if it came from the very depths of her soul, her face buried in her hands. But just as quickly as it came, it was over. She raised her head up and wiped away her tears with one of the few clean patches left on her robe. Her beautiful blue eyes met his alight with fire. “I kneed him, just like you taught me when we were younger. And I ran.”

 

He took in the state of her, battered and bloody, but still her scrappy self beneath the fear and anger. He loved her completely. “You’re safe, now,” he said softly. “You’re safe here,” he assured her as he cleaned the blood from her pale skin. Then he stared at her, gently brushing her hair from her face. “With me.” 

 

She hummed and shook her head, her eyes dropping to her lap while her fingers worried her ruined robe. “They’ll try to take me back. They’ll do everything they can...”

 

He grasped her chin, lifting her eyes back to his. “Let them try,” he challenged. “You’re here with me. He hurt you and doesn’t deserve you. I’ll kill him, or any other man who tries to take you away.”

 

She cupped his face and kissed him but quickly pulled back with a wince. “Ow.”

 

Robb smiled, but only to spare her from seeing his rage. “I’ll kiss you proper once your lip’s healed. I’ll find you somethin’ else to wear.” 

 

He stood and she did as well, her arms going around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I’m sorry for all of it.”

 

He kissed the top of her head, his calloused hands catching and snagging on her silk robe as he ran them over her back. “I’m sure we’ll figure all this out at some point, but not right now, alright? Not tonight.” She didn't argue so he wrapped an arm around her waist and walked her back to his room. He pulled one of his shirts from his chifferobe for her, holding it out to her. “Get some rest. I need to help Jon for a bit, then I’ll be back.”

 

“Robb,” she called before he could close the door. She’d stripped out of her gown and robe and was standing there, naked and beautiful, the bloody clothes held out to him. He swallowed thickly and forced his eyes to hers. “Burn those,” she whispered.

 

He took them from her and watched as she pulled his shirt over her head and settled on the bed, covers over her, his pillow wrapped in her arms. The sight was so familiar it caused his heart to flutter in his chest, like a bird trapped in a cage.  _ How many times had she fallen asleep in his bed? How many times had she pulled on one of his sweaty shirts because she said she loved the smell of him all around her? How many times had he dreamed his every night and day could be filled with her? _

 

Shaking his head he pushed it aside. They would talk it all out later, for now, he was content to let her sleep, knowing she was safe.

 

He made it back to the barn and found Jon was mostly done, already set up to start in the morning when they had Gendry and Arya there to help. His brother looked up at him with concern. “She alright?”

 

He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, still shook from their new predicament. “She’s strong. But we’ll probably have problems tomorrow.”

 

“Aye, like her husband,” Jon said with a sigh of his own. “What’re we gonna do?”

 

Robb took a deep steadying breath. “Deny she’s here as long as we can?” he offered, hopefully.

 

Jon’s brow grew heavy over his dark eyes. He folded his arms over his chest. “What about her car?”

 

“We can ditch it tomorrow night.”

 

“And if Rickon goes to school tomorrow and tells Myrcella or Tommen that Margaery’s here?” Jon challenged.

 

He groaned, Jon’s meticulous nature grating on his thin nerves. “I don’t know, Jon. I only know she can’t go back to him. You saw her. Would you send her back?” he demanded. 

 

Jon scowled at him, his eyes gone black in the dim lamplight. “You know better n’ that. But we need a plan, Robb. They’ll come for her.”

 

Robb searched his brain for solutions, anything to keep her out of the Lannister’s grasp. One idea jumped out, but even he knew it was pitiful. “The hatch in Bran’s room. She can hide under the house if anyone comes pokin’ round.”

 

Jon winced. It was a shit plan and he knew it but nodded anyway. “We’ll talk to Rickon and Bran in the mornin’.” He heaved a great sigh. “We might have to threaten Rickon with a whoopin’ to keep him from tellin’ every soul he sees, but we'll figure it out.” He put a reassuring hand on Robb’s shoulder. “We’ll keep her safe, I promise.  He won't be layin’ a hand on her ever again. You have my word.”

 

The weight that'd been hanging round Robb's neck for months eased, a deep affection welling up from his belly. He had his brother to count on, always had. A simple nod just wouldn’t do it. He grabbed Jon up in a hug and squeezed the life out of him. It was like the day he’d first saw him again, alive and well after they’d survived that hellish year apart. 

 

Jon let him have his hug, but cut it short with a reassuring pat then pulled away. “Be prepared for endless ribbin’ from Arya,” he japed, a wicked grin tugging at his mouth. 

 

Robb laughed but didn't miss that the try at humor never reached Jon’s eyes. His heart ached for him then. He wanted to see his brother happy again, for the light that had left him to come back, and stay.

 

They closed up the barn, Jon locking the door behind them and made the trek through the woods back to the house. The Starks had lived on Winter’s Peak for near a hundred years. Their home place hadn't been built until their Pa had married his Cat though. He’d added several rooms over the years, nearly one each for his children. Only the girls had ever had to share. 

 

It was only the four boys living there now, and the wolves. Their four-legged shadows were something of a legend down in the valley. Folks just couldn't believe anyone would have a wolf for a pet, let alone six of them. But the Stark clan did. Jon had stumbled onto the litter of pups when they were out hunting one day about a year before the war. Their mother had been shot. Ned was wary, but none of the boys had the heart to put the pups down, and Ned didn't have the heart to disappoint his sons. There'd been six, once for each of them. And while they weren't like dogs, ready to play the moment a stick was held up, they were fiercely protective of their  _ pack.  _

 

Five still lived on the mountain seven years later.

 

Their sister Sansa had taken her Lady with her when she’d married Dickon Tarly from a few towns over about a year ago. They were all happy for her, and for the one less mouth to feed. Most of them were happy about her weekly letters too, telling them how wonderful her life was at the Hornhill estate. Arya wasn’t though. She'd never gotten on with Sansa the way he and Jon had and always grew sullen when their sister’s letters arrived. But all it took was a smile and kiss from Gendry and all was right in her world again.

 

Gendry was a war buddy of Jon’s. They’d discovered during their many hours stuck in muddy trenches that he was actually the illegitimate son of Robert Baratheon, who happened to be best friends with their own father. At the end of the war, Gendry had wanted to come to Winterfell to visit the man that made him only to find out he’d been shot and killed, found dead a few feet from his best friend Ned’s own lifeless body. 

 

Rumor was they’d shot each other during a heated argument. Jon and Robb didn't believe a word of it, most folks didn't, but there was no proof to point any fingers anywhere else. 

 

With no place to go, Jon had offered to let Gendry stay on with them. He helped in the fields, owned a truck, and was a great mechanic. It was him who’d worked up the mechanical aspect of their still. 

 

As happy as Jon was to have his friend close, it was Arya who became his shadow. At first, the brothers teased her about it, until Robb noticed Gendry watched her with the same look in his eyes as he'd had for Margaery all these years. 

 

The day Arya had shown up with a marriage license and a ring, proudly announcing she and Gendry had gone off and gotten hitched all hell had broken loose.

 

Jon threatened to kill Gendry with his bare hands until Arya jumped him, screaming it was all on her. Gendry thought they’d had Jon and Robb's blessing cause she’d fibbed and told him so. Gendry had riled up then, but Arya had a way with him just as he did her. They went together like taters and carrots. And seeing their little sister happier than any of them had ever known her to be smoothed out all the ruffled feathers soon enough.

 

But it only took a week of them living in the house before Jon insisted it was time to build them one of their own. His room was right next to theirs and every morning Robb woke to find him on the parlor sofa grumpy as an old bear. Not that he blamed him much, he sure didn't envy him. Hearing your little sister sounding like a cat in heat was not what any brother wanted to suffer through night after night. Watching Jon take out all his ire on Gendry every day sure was fun though.

 

They’d made it into the house again. Robb told Jon goodnight and slipped quietly into his room. He stripped off his cardigan, tossing it on the straight back chair sitting in the corner then dropped his suspenders to his sides and tugged his shirt over his head. Being careful not to make too much noise he scooped some water from the wash basin and cleaned his face and torso, wiping himself down with a threadbare towel afterward. Clean as he was gonna get, he shucked out of his britches, smiling when he looked up and caught Margaery watching him. 

 

She moved over in the bed, making room. He slipped under the cool sheets beside her and just like they'd never parted, she laid her head on his chest, her bare thigh coming to rest over his legs. He reached down and grasped her knee, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin, his other arm tucked beneath his head.

 

“I’ve missed this,” she whispered softly.

 

“I’ve missed  _ you _ ,” he told her. “More than I ever knew a person could miss someone.”

 

“I’ve always been in love with you, Robb. You know that, don't you? And that nothing will ever change it?”

 

He kissed her brow and sighed. “I know. Just like I’ve been in love with you since the second I laid eyes on ya. But let's talk about it later. I’m exhausted, and I know you are.”

 

She lifted her head from his chest, and he could feel her blue stare straight down to his bones. Just when he thought she'd question him she laid back down, curling her supple body into his, her lips nearly against his neck, her warm even breaths fanning across his skin. He rested his cheek against her head, drawing in her sweet scent.  _ Summer roses fresh with morning dew. _ Nothing would ever smell better than his Margaery. 

 

Robb found sleep easier that night than he had since another man had slipped a fancy gold band around her finger.

 

*~*

 

Robb opened his bleary eyes. Someone was moving through the house. Hearing the clinking of the mugs in the kitchen he reckoned it was Jon. He’d always been able to function on less sleep than the rest of them. When they first started moonshining, he didn’t sleep for three days. It wasn't until Arya had arrived with the medicine for Bran, bought with the money from their first batch that he’d been able to rest. 

 

Robb was turned from the thought as a slender arm circled around him from behind and a gentle kiss from soft lips was placed to his shoulder. He closed his eyes and captured her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her palm. Opening his eyes again he noticed the bruises circling her delicate wrist. They were shaped like fingertips. He closed his eyes again and counted to ten in his head before he turned to face her, trying to control the urge to get in the car, drive to the Lannister estate and kill Joffrey with his bare hands. 

 

She was smiling at him when he rolled over, her blue eyes shining with happiness. The sight of her swollen cheek and bruised eye didn’t stop him from returning it with one of his own. He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her gently on the mouth, careful to avoid hurting her busted lip. They lay quietly, both seeming afraid to break the softness that surrounded them. Looking her over in the early light of dawn Robb spotted something he’d missed the night before, the sight of it nearly stopping his heart. There were bruises around her neck, dark and ugly. That little bastard had had his hands around her throat, his intent glaring. Robb swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat, not wanting his rage to destroy the moment. Instead, he reached up, stroking his thumb over the discolored marks, wishing he could will them away with only a touch. 

 

Her smile left and in its place despair bloomed on her beautiful face  “What am I going to do?” she whispered. “I’ve put your entire family in danger by coming here.”

 

He shushed her, shaking his head. “We know the risks. And you have t’be outta your pretty head if you think any a’ us are gonna let you go back to him.”

 

She snuggled into his embrace and he ran his fingers through her silky hair, comforting himself as well as her. “I should have eloped with you,” she murmured.

 

He took a deep breath and held her tighter. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I’ve got you back, and I intend to keep it that way.” Her answering sigh stirred him, his emotions all raging through his body, causing his hold on her to loosen a bit just so he could see her face. “Jon and I have a plan, for the moment.”

 

She looked up at him. “I know how dangerous that can be,” she said with a dazzling smile that brought one to his face. How he loved her. “Let’s hear this plan.”

 

“There’s a hatch in Bran’s room, just at the edge of his bed on the far side. It leads beneath the house.” He rested his hand on her hip. “Should anybody from your family, married or blood, come to the house, you’re to go in there and drop into it. Stay still and quiet and you don’t come out until one a' us comes to get ya.”

 

Her face fell and she shook her head. “I’m sorry for putting you—“

 

“Margaery, I love you. I’ll do anythin’ to protect you,” he whispered. “Don’t apologize anymore, alright?” The sun was nearly over the mountain. He sighed. “We can talk more 'bout it later, but Arya and Gendry should be gettin’ back soon and it’s Rickon’s first day a' school.”

 

He sat up on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over his face, then stood up and pulled on his underwear followed by his britches. He turned. Margaery was laying on her side, her head propped on her arm. She gave him her sly crooked smile and he was sitting back beside her without thought. “That’s an awfully sinful smile you’re wearin’.”

 

Her answering grin caused his heart to race and his cock to twitch. “That’s because you weren’t  _ wearin’ _ anything at all. It’s how I like you best.”

 

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her, but the sound of the truck outside his window caused him to pull away. “Go back to sleep and I’ll wake you when I come back in.”

 

She pouted for a moment but nodded. He grabbed his boots and tugged them on, then stood, pulling on his undershirt, a blue button-down, immediately rolling up the sleeves, then his suspenders. He slipped on his black vest and tucked his gun under the waistband of his britches at his lower back. He placed a kiss on top of her head, noticing how she had her arms wrapped around his pillow once more, then left the room to get the day started, all the while his mind stayef fixed on the woman who had stolen his heart, and his bed.

  
  



	2. Looking Like That, You’ll Open Some Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made and shared with the rest of the family regarding Margaery and her protection. Rickon's attempt at making a good first impression with his teacher lead to an unexpected meeting that leaves those in its wake rocked forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mood board at the beginning of this fic was made by justwanderingneverlost
> 
> Hello! Ashley here! Just wanted to say thank you to everyone for the encouraging words regarding this fic. Last week was, personally, really rough on me as I nearly had to have a third back surgery in less than seven months. I was able to keep that from happening, though, through resolve and my own doctor's reluctance to operate on me again! Thank god for small miracles. This fic has been my refuge during the last week. JW and I are making steady progress and are far enough ahead in plotting as well as writing that we're so excited for you guys to see parts of this that have yet to be revealed. We hope you enjoy reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it!
> 
> And to my writing partner, JW, thank you for being such a remarkable and encouraging force! It eases me to know I have a partner in this that is not only encouraging me with gorgeous mood boards but the words that go behind them.

 

_ I saw you standing there _ __  
_ Rich brown hair, the way it came tumbling down _ __  
_ Just like a waterfall _ __  
  


_ And if you need a light _ __  
_ I'll be the match to your candle _ _  
_ __ My darling, I'm ready, 

_ to burst into flames for you _ __  
  


_ I was just coasting till we met _ __  
_ You remind me just how good it can get _ __  
_ Well I've been on fire, dreaming of you _ __  
_ Tell me you don't _ __  
_ It feels like you do _ __  
  


_ Looking like that, you'll open some wounds _ __  
_ How does it start? And when does it end? _ __  
  


_ Only been here for a moment,  _

_ but I know I want you _ __  
_ But is it too soon? _ __  
_ To know that I'm with you _ __  
  


_ There's nothing I can do _

 

_ We stood at your front door _ __  
_ And my heart ran away from me _ __  
_ Opening up can open some wounds _ __  
_ How does it start? And when does it end? _ __  
  


_ Only been here for a moment,  _

_ but I know I want you _ _  
_ _ Darling, I do _

_ I'm with you _

 

_ I’m With You - Vance Joy _

  
**JON**  
  


 

Jon was rocking on the porch as the morning sun began peeking over the mountain, his white wolf, Ghost lay sleeping a few feet away. He’d woke in the middle of the night, breathing hard and soaked with sweat, to find the wolf sitting on the rug by his bed. His quiet, reassuring presence had allowed him to fall back to sleep and rest easy. 

 

Ghost hadn't been around in awhile as he was known to do. Robb’s Grey Wind tended to do the same. There was no telling how long he’d stay before he was gone again. Jon wasn't sure how the wolf knew, but he was always there when he needed him. As much as he loved seeing him, he hoped he'd only shown back up to ward away his nightmares last night. He’d be extra vigilant until he wandered off again though, just in case.

 

His snow white head raised up then, ears twisting and turning, zeroing in on what he was hearing, finally focusing on the road. Arya and Gendry came over the hill a few moments later, right on schedule, pulling into the yard. Jon got up, gave Ghost a scratch behind the ears and trotted over to the truck, jumping on the tailgate as Gendry kept rolling towards the barn. Arya opened her door and Nymeria jumped out, going to greet her brother.

 

Once they'd reach the barn they all hopped out and began unpacking the empty crates, Gendry and Arya relaying bits about Tyrion Lannister’s bawdy jokes and his attempts to get them to have a drink with him. Gendry always insisted they not stay. None of them trusted the Lannisters, even if Tyrion seemed to be a good man.

 

“Who was in that car that raced past us last night?” Arya asked, leaned against the truck taking a break.

 

“Margaery,” Jon grunted.

 

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Margaery  _ Lannister?  _ The girl who broke our brother’s heart?”

 

Jon heaved a sigh, knowing Arya would see her face soon enough and know exactly what happened. “Joffrey hurt her. She came runnin’ here for protection. We’re gonna hide her as long as we can.”

 

“Hurt her  _ how _ ?” she questioned, her voice lowered into a growl. Gendry raised a hand to calm her.

 

Jon looked over at her, frowning. “He hit her. Probably more ‘an once. I could tell that from her swollen face and busted nose and lip. Not sure what else...”

 

“Doesn’t matter what else,” Robb cut in, walking up and grabbing a crate. “Gendry, you still up for takin’ Rickon to school?”

 

“As long as you can do without me,” Gendry answered with a nod.

 

“We’ve got Arya. We’ll manage with her,” Robb teased. 

 

“How’s Margaery?” Arya questioned, and Jon knew she wasn’t gonna let it go no matter how much Robb tried to deflect. 

 

“She’s sleepin’,” he answered, then stopped what he was doing and pinned her with his ' _ I’m the one in charge _ ’ face. “Arya, she's been through a lot...”

 

“And you haven’t?” she smarted back, her skinny arms crossed over her chest. 

 

Robb heaved a sigh and lowered his head. “She didn’t have a choice and that’s all I’ll say about it.” He looked up at her again, his blue eyes sparking. “And this better be all you say about it too.”

 

“Stop, both of ya,” Jon jumped in, knowing exactly how well their sister would handle a statement like that. He turned to her. “Lil’ sister, we're gonna help her as long as we can in whatever capacity we can. For Robb.” She took her time, but finally relented, giving him a nod. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “You two are in town every night. Listen for gossip about her, us, or that rich jackass she married. We have others here to protect, too.”

 

Gendry nodded, face serious. “We will, you can count on us,” he assured them.

 

Considering the matter settled Jon looked over at his brother. “You want me to talk to Rickon and Bran, or do you want to?”

 

Robb frowned. “You get Bran. I’ll get Rickon up and in the bath. That boy always smells like sweat and wet dog.”

 

Arya chuckled. “Isn’t that what we all smell like?”

 

They all grinned then Robb looked at Gendry. “You and Arya get it set up and running without us if you can. We’ll come help you when we’ve got Rickon ready for school.”

 

Gendry only nodded as he entered the barn. Robb turned to his sister. “Don’t let us come out here and find the two of you all naked and sweaty in there again.”

 

She only smiled. “Knock first.”

 

“Arya!” Robb barked as she entered behind her husband. 

 

“I ain't makin’ any promises,” she called back before closing the door behind her. Jon and Robb traded equal looks of disgust as they headed towards the house. 

 

Margaery was making breakfast, having pulled on a pair of Robb’s trousers to wear with the shirt she’d slept in. She handed them each a cup of coffee. Jon gave her a grateful nod, took a swig then sat it on the table. “I’ll get Bran up,” he told Robb as he filled a glass with water and took it and a spoon back to Bran’s room.

 

Jon knocked on his brother's door, opening it once Bran had told him to come in. Summer trotted past him, no doubt headed to see his siblings. His brother laid staring out the window. “Mornin’.”

 

“Mornin’,” Bran replied, not an ounce of cheer in his voice. Jon remembered Bran once being a vibrant little boy who was prone to mischief and laughter. Now, he sat in his wheelchair and barely spoke a word. He read a lot and whittled, but that was it these days.

 

Jon took notice of the dragon he’d been whittling sitting on his nightstand. “That’s comin’ along nice,” he said as he sat beside him, laying the spoon and water on the table, then helped him into a sitting position.

 

“Thanks. Still needs some more detailing along the claws. Then, I think it’ll be done.”

 

Jon smiled. “Good.”

 

“I heard Margaery last night. She alright?”

 

Jon frowned. “As good as can be, I reckon. Until we figure out what to do, don’t say anythin’ to the doc about her bein’ here.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

“And should the Lannisters show up, we’re gonna put her down the hatch in here. Let her hide under the house till they're gone.”

 

Bran nodded. “It’s a good plan. For now I reckon.”

 

He sighed. “I know. But I think you’ll be more in favor of hidin’ her once you’ve seen her face,” he whispered.

 

He held up the spoon and Bran took it as Jon lifted the first of many medications from the table and poured a dose onto it. He watched as his brother swallowed it and the next one he poured for him. As he swallowed that one down Jon held up the glass of water, knowing the second was worse than the first. Bran took it and drank down the whole glass greedily. He gave him a threadbare piece of linen that he’d dipped in the soapy water of the basin and let Bran clean himself of sweat. 

 

“Is Rickon excited for school?”

 

Jon smirked. “Rickon is excited about everythin’. Robb and I had to have a long talk with him yesterday that Shaggydog was not allowed to go with him.”

 

Bran chuckled. “How did that go?”

 

He shook his head and grinned at his brother. “Only two ‘I won’ go ta school’s’, so I’d say it was received well.” 

 

He held out a shirt for him. Bran took it and pulled it on. Then Jon helped him with his underclothes and his pants. Bran insisted that shoes still be put on his feet, and so Jon laced them up once he got them on. He pulled the chair closer to the bed and counted down before he lifted him into his arms and settled him in the chair. Bran reached for the quilt his mother had made for him before she died and covered his legs. Jon then rolled him out of his room and into the kitchen where Margaery was putting food on the table.

 

She looked at him nervously but Bran smiled at her, hiding anything other than being happy to see her. “Good mornin’, Margaery.”

 

“Bran,” she said as she smoothed down his hair. “I made eggs just the way you like them.”

 

Jon gave her a smile and turned at the sound of Rickon coming down the hall, complaining to Robb about brushing his hair. He stopped at seeing Margaery’s face, eyes wide as saucers. “Miss Margaery! Who done that to you?!”

 

Jon walked over to Rickon as Robb went to Margaery and rubbed a hand soothingly over her back. He crouched down in front of his baby brother and met his wide eyes with a serious stare. “We need to talk, little man. And I need you to listen good, alright?” Rickon nodded vigorously. “I know you’re probably excited to see Miss Margaery, but some bad people would hurt her if they knew where she was.” Rickon's eyes flicked over to her and then back at Jon, his little brows knitted together with worry. “We need you to be a big man today and no matter what you hear, no matter who says it, you don’t say nothin’ ‘bout seein’ Miss Margaery or that she’s here. You understand?”

 

“I’ll keep it a secret. I promise, Jon. I promise you too, Miss Margaery,” he swore then ran and hugged her around the waist. 

 

She ran her fingers through his curly hair and smiled. “Thank you, sweetheart. You sure look handsome for your first day of school.”

 

Rickon blushed and Jon was amused to note how much he looked like Robb in that moment. He climbed onto his chair as Margaery put a plate of food in front of him and he tucked in. 

 

Jon released a sigh and gave her a nod and a smile. She held up a plate of sausage and he and Robb both took a piece. 

 

He left the cozy scene in the kitchen, retreating to the front porch. Watching Robb and Margaery with the boys made it hard to breathe. The thought of one day having family of his own had been a driving force for him on endless nights during the war. Then he’d gotten a letter from Arya telling him his Ygritte had been killed. That piece of paper and the words written on it had caused more damage to his heart than the shrapnel that’d nearly took his life a month later. 

 

He sipped down the rest of his coffee and waved at Gendry as he came out of the barn and walked toward him, checking his pocket watch as he walked. “The little man ready?” he asked him.

 

Gendry had been the one selected to drive Rickon to and from school. It was simply too far and too dangerous for the little boy to walk. Jon and Robb would spend most of the day working in the still while Gendry and Arya slept. It was a good system. It worked for their family. 

 

Someone had to be close by for Bran too, which is why they’d set the still up in the abandoned barn in the first place. But if Margaery was going to be inside with him, then that meant they had more time to get things done. Jon worried, though, about the eventual arrival of the calvary that was sure to come, intent on taking Margaery back. He hoped Joffrey wasn’t stupid enough to come alone. He feared Robb might actually kill the little weasel. 

 

“Rickon! Get a move on, boy! You don’t wanna be late your first day,” he hollered over his shoulder into the house.

 

Rickon dashed out the door, but skidded to a stop at the bottom of the steps. Jon and Gendry both watched with amusement as he bent over and picked a daisy from the yard, then rushed back in the house. Jon turned and watched through the screen door as he handed the flower over to Margaery. “You’re still real pretty Miss Margaery.”

 

A hand to her chest, and with what Jon was certain were watery eyes, Margaery smiled and leaned over, placing a kiss on Rickon's cheek. His little brother immediately balked. “Aww, ya didn’t have ta kiss me!” he yowled.

 

Jon chuckled as he came back outside, wiping his cheek on his sleeve. “Alright, Rickon, one more time...” he reminded.

 

He flung his scrawny arm up. “Don’t tell nobody. I got it!”

 

“And you be nice. Mind your manners. We’ll tan your hide if we get a bad report.”

 

“Yes’sir!” he hollered back, rushing to the truck. “Come on, Gendry! We’re burnin’ daylight!”

 

Gendry rolled his eyes, obviously thinking the same thing Jon was: the kid spent too much time with Arya. Robb walked out onto the porch and gave a wave to Rickon as they pulled out, then clapped Jon on the shoulder as they started toward the barn. “Margaery knows the plan. Hide until one of us comes to get her.”

 

Jon nodded. “Let’s hope it never comes to that.”

 

*~*~*

 

The house was quiet for a change. Robb and Margaery were down at the still, Arya and Gendry resting up for the night over at their place.

 

Only the sounds of Bran’s knife whittling away at his piece of wood, an occasional soft thump from Rickon's room where he played with Shaggydog, and the shuffle and sighs of Ghost and Summer shifting to find a more comfortable sleeping position on the kitchen floor broke the silence. The crinkle of paper and the brush and sweep of his fingers as they slid along the pages of his book added to the calm.

 

Jon loved days like this. Hushed and peaceful. Letting him get lost in other people's stories. His mind could rest. Forget about the darkness that vexed him like haints in the woods. 

 

The wolves came to attention, Summer whining as he shifted closer to Bran, Ghost silently rising to his feet, his red eyes focused on the door. A timid knock sounded against it a moment later and Jon’s heart leapt into his throat, nerves tingling up his spine. He figured trouble would come for them, but he’d hoped it wouldn't be this soon. He looked at Bran raising his eyebrows in question, wishing hard he was expecting someone. The boy just shrugged. Only the doc, Sam, ever came to see him, and it wasn't time for one of his visits. 

 

He rose from the table, quiet as he could and rolled his shoulders. Whoever was waiting on the other side of the door, he needed to be loose and ready. Ghost laid back down, seeming unconcerned. It eased Jon's nerves a bit, but he still rested his right hand on the hilt of his gun that stuck out from the back of his britches as he walked to the door.

 

His scowl faded as soon as he opened it. The prettiest sight he’d ever seen stood on their porch. She was a tiny thing. Even shorter than him. Long waves of rich brown hair framed her soft round face, not one out of place and all shining like silk in the evening sun. Her skin was as pale and smooth as cream, except for the rosy flush on her cheeks. She had a pair of full lips painted a distracting deep red. But it was her eyes that stole his senses and left him gaping like a fish just caught up from the creek. They held every shade of blue and green the good Lord had made and they were staring back at him wide as an ocean. 

 

It was his hair. Everyone one stared at him queer like these days, even folks that’d known him all his life. He hadn't let Arya at him with her shears for more than a trim or two since he’d came home from the war. It was a mop of curls now, black as coal. Arya had always teased him that he wanted to be the black sheep of the family and with that hair now he really was. He didn't care. He had his reasons and they were nobody’s business but his own, and he didn’t give a damn for fashion, never had. 

 

“Mr. Stark?”

 

Her soft question snapped him out of his daze. “Ah, Snow, actually,” he corrected, glancing around the yard for her man, or the car they surely drove up in. No one in their right mind, especially a woman, would walk all the way up this mountain alone. But there was nothing and no one. Just her. The uneasiness he felt at her knock crept back up his spine. He stared into her ocean eyes searching them intently, waiting. “This is the Stark place. What can I do for ya?”

 

He must've unnerved her cause her head dropped as she smoothed her hands over her already starched skirts and looked down at her shiny red heels. 

 

_ Can't believe she walked all the way up here in those.  _ Someone had to be hiding in the woods, watching them. He scanned the trees again.

 

“I’m the new school teacher, Miss Storm. I’m here to speak with someone about Rickon.”

 

Jon scowled and walked onto the porch. The screen door smacked closed behind him. He left his arms loose at his sides, instead of stuffing them in his pockets, just in case. “What’d he do?”

 

She took a deep breath, her eyes flitting off to the side. “He put a snake in my desk drawer,” she said in a rush.

 

Jon felt his hackles rise. He tried to think of a way to defend Rickon. It could’ve been any of the other youngins’, it didn't have to be him, but something told Jon it had been. Rickon was a good boy, but there was a streak of wildness in him. Just like he had, and Arya too. Wolf's blood their pa had called it.

 

“When I asked who did it, he told me it was him,” the teacher continued, “and...looked rather proud of himself. Then I asked him why he put it  _ in  _ my desk and he said that it would have slithered away otherwise.” She met his eyes then. They were twinkling like stars as she suppressed a grin.

 

Jon swallowed and turned his head towards the door. “Rickon!” 

 

The pair of them stood there, silent and awkward, eyes skirting each other as Rickon's running footsteps echoed through the house.  Miss Storm glanced over Jon’s shoulder, her brows twisting with concern and curiosity.  _ She’d spotted Bran. _ Jon stepped over in reflex, blocking her view of his crippled brother. Bran didn't like being stared at. He gave a small smile, letting his eyes squint, hoping to distract her.

 

Thankfully Rickon came out and provided a better one. “Whatcha want Jon? I was playin.”

 

Jon looked down at him with a dark frown. “Your teacher here says you put a snake in her desk. That true?”

 

Rickon looked up in shock at Miss Storm only then noticing she was there. He was obviously just as surprised at seeing her as Jon had been.  Especially knowing she’d made the trek up the mountain just to tell on him. The little boy hung his head. “Yes,” he mumbled.

 

“Why’d you do that? And after you promised me you’d behave too,” Jon scolded him, keeping his tone firm, but gentle.

 

“It was my favorite snake, Jon!” the boy cried, his eyes growing shiny, lip wobbling. “I just wanted to give her somethin’ nice. Everyone else just gave her silly ol’ apples!”

 

Jon couldn’t hide his smile. He lent down, running his hand over Rickon's mop of rusty curls then down to rest on his shoulder. “That was real nice of ya to give her your favorite, but before you give a pretty lass a gift ya need t’be sure it's somethin’ she’d like first.” 

 

Rickon looked up at her, disbelief written all over his young face. “Do ya not like snakes Miss Storm?” 

 

She opened her mouth as if to confirm that she did not, but as Jon watched she hesitated. He felt a great welling in his chest that she would even think to spare Rickon’s feelings. She gave the boy a smile. “It was a very nice snake. It simply surprised me.” Rickon grinned, looking up at him, relief shining in his blue grey eyes. Jon squeezed his boney shoulder with a smile then they both looked to Miss Storm. Her whole face lit up when she smiled back at them. “Does your favorite snake have a name?” she asked.

 

Rickon nodded. “Snakey. Bran said it’s a stupid name.”

 

“And who is Bran?” 

 

Rickon pointed through the screen door and suddenly Jon’s stomach was in his boots. This needed to stop before it went any further, but Rickon took her hand and led her inside as he stood there scrambling for an excuse to have her gone. Barely containing his groan, frown dark and brooding, he followed them inside. Rickon was already pulling her toward Bran’s chair. 

 

She was slowing him down, pulling back, warily watching Ghost as they passed him. Jon was more than a little shocked to only see his wolf lift his eyebrows, his red stare following her as she and Rickon crossed the room. He never even lifted his head from his paws. 

 

Shaggydog watched from the hallway where he stood, gold eyes bright within his dark face, and as they reached Bran, Summer’s response was much the same. He did sit up and lean against Bran’s wheelchair, but was as calm as a cucumber, his dark eyes lazy as Bran scratched at his neck. 

 

None of them had ever been so calm around a stranger before.  _ What the hell had gotten into em?  _

 

“Bran this is my teacher, Miss Storm,” Rickon introduced her.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bran,” she greeted him, her voice soft and sweet, and perhaps a bit shaky. Jon shifted uncomfortably on his feet, wondering what was going on inside her pretty head and what Robb would say if he were to walk in at that moment. She eyed Summer. “Your  _ wolf _ …?” Bran nodded. “He’s beautiful. I see you all have one,” she said, looking at each in turn. 

 

“Yes ma’am,” Bran answered. “This is Summer. The white one over there is Ghost. He belongs to Jon, and Rickon has Shaggydog.” He pointed over his shoulder at the black wolf now sitting in the darkened hallway. “All us have one, even our sisters. Had em since they were pups.”

 

“Well, that's…. just marvelous,” she said, her awe candid. “I’ve never seen one in person. They're all quite beautiful, and so well behaved too.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

 

Her eyes caught on the piece of wood Bran held. “Is that a dragon? You carved it?”

 

Bran looked down at the figure in his hands then held it out to her. “Yes ma’am. I just finished it,” he said as she took it from him, looking at the details with wonder, her blue eyes wide. “Rickon came home and told me all about you and how you’re workin’ with em on learnin’ to read and count. He’s excited.”

 

Miss Storm gave Bran another one of her sunny smiles. “Rickon was one of the most helpful during the day,” she told him as she turned her bright blue eyes on the youngest Stark who preened under her praise. “And one of the nicest students too.” She looked at Bran. “Why weren't you at school today?”

 

“I had Polio. My legs don’t work anymore, and I still get sick a lot. It's best if I stay home.”

 

She bit her lip, her dark brows creased with concern. “Do you read and write?”

 

He nodded. “Jon and Robb taught me,” he told her as he glanced over his shoulder at Jon. “He didn’t tell you his name, but that’s Jon.”

 

Jon shook his head and extended his hand to her. “Apologies, ma’am. Jon Snow.”

 

Her pretty eyes squinted with amusement, full lips pinched in a tight grin. “Dany Storm.” She shook his hand and Jon did his best to ignore the tingles her soft skin created against his. He wasn't sure, but he coulda sworn she held it a little longer than was proper.

 

“Is that really your name? I ain't never heard of a girl named Dany?” Rickon asked. “And you talk funny too,” he added with a whisper.

 

“Rickon! Mind your manners, boy,” Jon reprimanded him, flushed with embarrassment. They’d taught him better than that.

 

But Miss Storm just laughed, ruffling his brother's hair. “It's quite alright, he’s just curious,” she assured Jon, glancing up then quickly looking back at Rickon. “I grew up in Boston,” she explained. “We do talk a bit different up there.”

 

“How’d you end up here?” Bran asked before Jon could utter a word.

 

“Needed a change of scenery and pace,” she said. Her smile faltered, those pretty eyes flickering with something Jon knew a lot about and recognized all too well.  _ Pain. _

 

A beautiful woman, all alone in a new town. There was a story behind that and Jon knew then and there, standing in the middle of his kitchen that he wanted to know it. He also knew he was in serious trouble. 

 

She handed the dragon back to Bran, but he shook his head. “Please, accept it as  _ my  _ welcome gift.”

 

She nodded with a laugh, and Jon got lost in the sweet sound of it. “I’ll keep it on my desk. Thank you, very much.”

 

Bran gave her a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

 

“Well,” she sighed and looked at Jon. His heart sped up quick as a rabbit running within his chest as her eyes locked with his for a lingering moment before flitting away. “I should be going. Don't want to mess up your supper time.”

 

Something akin to panic rose up in him then and he wasn't quite sure why, but he knew he wasn't about to let her walk home alone. The sun was starting to set. It’d be well past dark before she made it into town.

 

He cleared his throat. “Miss Storm, I’d feel a right better if you’d allow me to drive you home. This mountain ain’t safe for anyone to walk through at night alone.”

 

She looked at the two young boys with a tight smile, then back at Jon. “Oh, that’s very nice of you, but I’m sure I can manage.”

 

Bran shook his head. “Best let him drive you. He won’t sleep. Be up all night worryin’ somethin’ could've happened to you,” he told her as he pushed at the wheels of his chair. “It’s in Jon’s nature to protect people.”

 

Jon felt his cheeks flame again, his brother having no regard for how on edge he was around this beautiful, captivating woman. 

 

Rickon smiled up at her. “Jon’s a real good driver Miss Storm. He’ll get you home safe an’ sound.”

 

“And what about you boys?” she questioned. “You’ll be all alone if he takes me home.”

 

Rickon waved her off. “We’ll be fine,” he drawled. “‘Sides, Arya and Gendry are right next door if I need ‘em.”

 

Jon nodded, confirming Rickon's story and took the keys to Gendry’s truck off the side table by the front door. “Shall we, Miss Storm?” She tilted her head, her smile resigned knowing she'd been beat. Jon held open the screen door. “I promise to be a perfect gentlemen,” he assured her.

 

She rolled her eyes playfully and headed towards the door, waving goodbye to the boys. 

 

“I won't be gone long, y'all behave. And no sneakin’ cookies ‘fore supper, Rickon,” he told them as they walked out. 

 

Both boys hollered back and Jon jogged ahead to open the truck door for her. She climbed inside and he shut the door gently behind her. Walking around to get in himself he willed his blush away and tried to get ahold of the nerves jumping around his belly. He hadn't been alone with a woman in years, he was bound to mess this up. 

 

Pulling his cap from his back pocket he settled it over his mess of hair then climbed in the driver’s seat, shut the door, and turned the key. Rickon waved at them from the front porch as they pulled out of the yard, and through the rear view mirror he saw Arya come out of her house, her mouth just a going, already firing questions at their little brother.

 

The inside of the truck seemed to shrink the further they got down the road. She was sat a good two feet away from him, but by the way his body had gone all warm and tingly, he woulda swore she was pressed up tight to his side. Even with his eyes focused on the road he was hyper aware of her sitting there. Pretty as picture, her delicate hands smoothing out her skirts, a pink tongue darting out to lick at full red lips. He sat up straighter, squirming a bit.

 

The silence grew thick despite the rattle of the old truck’s engine and crunch of the gravel passing under their tires. Jon had never been much of a talker, around the opposite sex he was even worse. He wasn’t sure what to say or where to start. She’d been wonderful with both the boys. Not even flinching when Bran had told her he’d had Polio. She didn’t look at him like some sort of side show at a traveling circus when he’d rolled his chair down the hall to his room. Didn't wrinkle her nose at their meager belongings scattered about the old tumbledown house they called home. She’d been nothing but kind, sweet as a spring morning. 

 

If he didn't know much else, Jon knew he could use more  _ sweet  _ in his life. He had to try. He’d be no worse off than he was now even if nothing came of it. 

 

He cleared his throat and glance over at her. “I'm sorry again about Rickon and his gift. He ain't had raisin’ like some of the other youngins’. With his folks gone…” He shrugged. “Well, the rest of us have done the best we could for him.”

 

He saw her turn to look at him from the corner of his eye. “How many siblings do you have?”

 

Jon smiled over at her. “Five. But I ain't their brother, I’m their cousin. Uncle Ned, their pa, raised me with em. Treated me as good as one o’ his own.” He took a deep breath. “Rickon and Bran you already met. Arya lives in the house next door with her husband, Gendry. There’s Sansa, she married a fella named Tarly bout a year ago and lives a few counties over in what we hear is an estate. And the oldest is Robb. There's only a few months between us.”

 

“If you don’t mind me asking. What happened to your Aunt and Uncle? And  _ your _ parents?” she added gently.

 

Jon forced himself not to frown. He hated talking about his folks. People had always treated him like he was somehow less of a person when they found out. He didn't like the idea of her blue eyes looking at him different. He started with the Starks, holding off the inevitable as long as he could. “Aunt Cat got sick while Robb n’ me were fightin’ in the war. Spanish flu. Uncle Ned was killed by his best friend only a few weeks before we got home.”

 

She looked out the front window and lowered her head. “I’m very sorry.” 

 

He pressed his lips together and nodded, letting out a sigh. “My story ain't no better. Uncle Ned’s baby sister got pregnant with me when she was fifteen. Some drifter came through town, filled her head with pretty lies. He drifted right on out again when he heard I was on the way. I don’t know who he was, don't wanna know. Far as I’m concerned, Uncle Ned was my Pa. And my Ma, she died a few hours after havin’ me. So the Starks are the only family I’ve ever known, only one I needed.”

 

She put a hand over his forearm and he looked over at her as the wind whipped her hair around, his heart firmly lodged in his throat. “I’m glad you had them,” she said softly.

 

He turned his attention back to the road before he ran them into the ditch, trying to ignore how warm and soft her skin felt pressed against his. “What about you? D’ya have some tragic backstory?” he asked, once she'd laid her hand back in her lap and he’d gathered his senses again. 

 

She chuckled and shrugged. “If I told you then I would lose all the mystery surrounding me, wouldn’t I?”

 

He smirked, liking her sense of humor. “Then tell me this,” he said as he glanced at her. “How on God's green earth did ya walk all this way in those shoes?” They'd finally reached the edge of town and he pulled onto the city square, shifting gears, and turned right towards the school. 

 

“I’m from Boston, as I said. We walk everywhere, and in heels like these, though they’d never seen dirt roads before today.”

 

“Being in Winterfell must seem like time is standin’ still compared to the big city livin’ you probably did there.”

 

She didn’t confirm or deny what he’d said, she simply tilted her head and sighed. “But that’s not always a bad thing, is it?”

 

Jon shook his head. “No ma’am. I suppose it’s not.”

 

“Dany,” she said with a smile. “Call me Dany.”

 

He shook his head again. “Pa would box my ears if I called a woman I wasn’t familiar with by her given name.”

 

“How  _ familiar _ would you have to be?”

 

He felt his cheeks flame up once more and his heart give a funny flip inside his chest. “Pardon?”

 

“Would we have to get to know one another better? Talk more often? Or would this be some far off and distant moment where you felt comfortable enough with me for you to call me Dany and me to call you Jon?”

 

He swallowed deep and smiled nervously at her. “I reckon you’d have to keep charmin’ my family as you do, ma’am.”

 

She nodded. “Two Starks down and three to go, then?”

 

_ Gods, who is this woman? _ “Well, let’s call it two to go. Don’t know when we’ll see Sansa again.” 

He pulled up to the tiny cottage behind the school house and frowned. “You should leave a light on so you don’t walk into a dark house,” he said as he noticed her looking down in the floorboard. She reached down and grabbed a jar and a shot of panic exploded in his chest.  _ Shit! Our moonshine _ . 

 

She placed it on the seat and gave him a smile. “I wouldn’t recommend driving around with that in the truck. It’s illegal, you know?”

 

He was so shook up he didn't realize she was getting out of the truck until she almost was. He mentally chastised himself as he threw open his door and ran around to her side and held hers open for her. He stuck out his hand to help her down and she accepted it with another one of her dizzying smiles. “Thank you Mister Snow.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste and she laughed. “You don’t like being called Mister Snow but you insist on calling  _ me _ Miss Storm or ma’am?”

 

He chuckled and looped his thumbs through his suspenders. “Don’t make a whole lotta sense, I know.”

 

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed, then suddenly gasped. “Rickon’s snake. Can you get it out of my desk and take it back to him?”

 

He nodded and followed her into the dark schoolhouse, the moonlight illuminating the room with a silvery glow. “Which drawer?”

 

“The big one.” 

 

Jon opened it and the tiny snake slithered out onto his hand, eager to be free from its cage. He captured it by the head as the rest of it wrapped around his wrist. “You sure you don’t wanna keep it?” he teased just to hear her laugh again.

 

She did, shaking her head adamantly. “No!” But then she placed the dragon Bran had given her onto her desk, sitting it just so, like she was as proud of it as a fancy figurine made of china. “How will you drive with the snake?”

 

“Carefully?” he offered. That got him another laugh and he decided the more she did it the more he wanted to hear it. “Think I might have a burlap sack in the truck. Should keep it safe and sound until I get home,” he assured her as he headed towards the door.

 

She followed him out and closed up behind them. He walked with her to her door and she turned to face him, her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

 

“Sorry, Miss Storm, but I don’t want a ghostly visit from my Pa because I showed poor manners by not walkin’ you to your door. I’ll be on my way once I see you’re safe inside.”

 

She gave him a nod and a small knowing smile and unlocked the door. “Your Pa can rest well knowing he raised a true gentleman.”

 

Jon blushed under her praise as she opened the door, walked inside and turned on the light. 

 

“Goodnight, Mister Snow,” she told him, so softly if felt like a caress. It made his heart flutter up another notch again.

 

“Nite, Miss Storm,” he returned.

 

She gently shut the door then a moment later was waving at him through her sitting room window. He waved back then turned around and walked to the truck. He spent the next few minutes hunting in the bed of it for the burlap in the dim yard light. 

 

“I saw you weren't having any luck finding a sack,” her soft voice came from behind him. 

 

Jon nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned around at her giggle to see her standing there holding a pillowcase in her hand looking like a dream, all sweet and smiling, her cotton blouse showing the column of her pretty creamy throat and a hint of the small neat bosom beneath. 

 

He grinned like an idiot and took it from her, noticing how soft it felt. Hopefully he wouldn’t ruin it with his grubby hands. “Thank ya. I’ll be sure it gets washed and brought back,” he told her, tucking the snake safely inside and tying off the end. 

 

They stood there, in the dark, the katydids singing their nightly chorus while they stared at one another. He thought maybe he could see she wanted to say something, that or she was waiting on him to, her eyes all doey and expectant. But his words had left him, making him as mute as a creekbed during a drought.  

 

Luckily she found hers. “Thank you again for the ride, Mister Snow.”

 

He tipped his hat. “The pleasure was all mine, Miss Storm. You take care now,” he told her, opening the truck door. 

 

“You do the same,” she replied, shuffling back towards her little house.

 

Jon climbed into the truck and put Rickon’s snake on the seat, watching her until she got safely inside again. Once she was, he looked down at the jar of moonshine sitting where she’d left it. Shaking his head he grabbed it and tucked it back beneath the seat. 

 

Pulling out of the drive he got back on the main road through town, his head buzzing with Miss Dany Storm’s sweet laugh, dazzling smile, and her quick wit. He was done for. Knew it as good as he did his own name. He let his thoughts of her consume him as he drove back up the mountain, still amazed she’d walked all that way in those shoes. She was a unique woman, a bit more forward than any he knew, but then he liked that. 

 

He hadn’t felt like this in a long time, like he was breathing too fast but still not able to fill his lungs completely. And it was all her. 

 

Soon he was pulling the truck up in front of the house. Robb was sitting on the porch under the flickering glow of the porch light, bugs dancing all around it, rocking away with a glass in his hand. 

 

“Where you been?” he asked as soon as Jon hopped out of the truck. 

 

Jon shrugged and turned back, grabbing the pillow case, then reaching under the seat for the jar of moonshine and shutting the door. “The new school teacher came to tell us that Rickon put a snake in her desk. Two guesses as to what’s in the bag,” he said, holding it up.

 

Robb tilted his head. “Now, why would he have done that?”

 

“He was givin’ her a  _ welcome  _ gift,” Jon explained, climbing up the steps. “His way of bein’ polite. Took her comin’ up here to figure it out. He didn't say a word to me about it when he got home. Little bugger.”

 

Robb chuckled and shook his head. “Can you imagine him as an adult usin’ snakes to gain a woman’s attention?”

 

Jon snorted. “As I recall, you used to chase Margaery round and pull her hair.”

 

“Only when she would talk to the other boys. I was jealous,” Robb defended himself, shrugging, then took sip of his shine. “This is from the last batch. It’s fuckin’ perfect.”

 

Jon nodded. “I know. I made it,” he said with a smirk as he took the rocking chair beside Robb’s. “Get Margaery’s car taken care of?”

 

His brother nodded. “Two counties over. Still spect we’ll see the Tyrells or Lannisters in the next few days.”

 

Jon sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Or worse.  _ Both _ .” He looked back at the house. “Where is she?”

 

“Cleaning up from supper. She left you a plate on the table.”

 

“She’s an angel. You should marry her,” he said then sniffed, “Oh, wait...”

 

“Not funny,” Robb warned.

 

He smirked again. “It’s a lil’ funny.”

 

Robb eyed him for a moment and frowned. “Why’re you in such a good mood?”

 

“Ain’t I always?”

 

He chuffed. “No. Usually, you’re a broody shit. You’re damn near giddy right now. Why?” Jon didn’t answer and Robb sat forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, a wicked grin tugging at his mouth. “Tell me ‘bout Rickon’s teacher.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes, cursing his blushing face. It was becoming too frequent for his liking. He was thankful it was so dark out. “She ain’t why.”

 

“Jon,” Robb said, a warning hanging on his simple name. “I’ll drive Rickon to school in the mornin’. See ‘er for myself.”

 

He heaved a sigh, knowing his brother had him by the tail. “Her name’s Dany Storm. She’s ugly as sin. You wouldn’t believe it. Covered n’ moles, hair growin’ out of em...”

 

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever seen,” Robb laughed. “How pretty?”

 

Jon took a deep breath and leaned his head back against the rocking chair. “The kind of pretty that makes you forget how to breathe,” he whispered.

 

“Damn,” his brother said slowly.

 

“Yeah,” he agreed, breathless. He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair and rocked a bit to give his charged nerves an outlet. “Think I’m gonna call on her.”

 

Robb wasn't very good at hiding his shock. He wiped a hand over his face, but his eyebrows were still raised when he looked at him. “You should,” he said a bit too enthusiastically. “She might be just what ya need to make you stop all your damn broodin’.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes then looked across the yard having heard Gendry and Arya’s door smack closed. They were strolling towards them whispering and grinning like always. He heaved a sigh and stood up. Time to start their nightly routine. He slapped a hand to Robb’s shoulder. “Come on, old man, let’s get to it.”

 

“I ain't that much older than you, you know?” he grumbled and sat his glass on the porch beside the rocker. 

 

Jon tossed Gendry his keys as they approached and Robb handed off the list to Arya. The pair loaded up in the truck and drove it down to the barn, Robb and Jon riding on the tailgate, Nymeria in the bed.

 

The men got straight to work loading the truck, but Arya wasn’t interested in her part of the job at all. “Imagine my surprise,” she sing songed, “when I see Jon climb into the truck this afternoon with a strange woman and speed off down the hill without a word to anyone. I had to get the full story from Rickon.”

 

Jon ignored her as he and Gendry kept working but Robb had stopped. “Did ya get a good look at ‘er?”

 

She shook her head. “Only that she was properly dressed and Jon opened the door for her. Pa would be proud of your pretty manners,” she called over to him.

 

Gendry nudged Jon with his elbow, grinning like a fool. “She’s been waitin’ for this for over an hour. Even after givin’ Robb hell this mornin’ bout Margaery.”

 

“So, what, it’s my turn?” he snarled finally giving her his attention.

 

She nodded and grinned. “Rickon told me all about Miss Storm and how you even let her in the house to talk to Bran.”

 

Robb bowed up. “You did what?” he barked.

 

Jon shook his head, shooting his sister a dark scowl. “I didn’t  _ let _ her do nothin’. Rickon had her inside ‘fore I could stop him.”

 

She waved off their brother. “Relax, Robb. Bran and Rickon liked her. Bran even gave her that dragon he’d been whittlin’. And they said the wolves liked her too. Not a one of em even growled at her.”

 

Robb still didn’t look pleased and Jon decided it might be best to soothe his ruffled feathers rather than ruffle them more. “If I’d thought there was gonna be  _ any _ judgement on her part she woulda been out of there in a heartbeat.”

 

That seemed to appease him for the time being, so they finished loading the truck in relative silence, only Arya talking with Gendry about who they’d see on their run that night. But Jon’s nerves had changed from jangled excitement to bristling irritation. He hated when Robb was angry with him, especially when he had no reason to be. He had to know Jon would never allow anyone to hurt their family. 

 

As Arya and Gendry sped off, they went into their still shack and Jon couldn’t fight his need to reassure Robb that Dany was a good woman any longer. “She put that dragon on her desk in the school,” he mumbled, “like it was the most precious thing she’d ever gotten.” Robb looked at him, his brows creased with more than a few questions. “I had to go get the snake out of her desk,” Jon explained.

 

“Did Ghost and them really not even growl?”

 

“Nope. Ain't never seen em so calm around a stranger. It was like they'd known her all along.  Was the weirdest thing.”

 

Robb shook his head and heaved a deep breath. “Sorry I got riled. I know you feel as protective of em as I do. It’s still hard...”

 

“I know. But I meant what I said. If there’d been any judgement on her part, I would’ve asked her to leave.”

 

The worry finally faded from Robb's eyes and he jerked his head towards the still. “Let’s get this started so you can eat and I can go to bed.”

 

Jon nodded and got to work. Tonight, though, the usual dark and heavy memories that always kept him company had been replaced by thoughts of the gorgeous woman with an intoxicating laugh and sharp humor.

 

He was a doomed man. From the second he’d opened the door and laid eyes on her. He was doomed, heart and soul.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Rickon is a little scamp, isn't he? We so love writing him. We've got some really good stuff coming forward and a cast of characters we hope you all love as much as we do! Let us know in the comments. Remember, fic writers don't get paid. We're out here doing this for fun, so it helps to know that other people are enjoying reading it as much as we enjoy writing it. Don't be shy! We promise we won't bite (unless asked!)


	3. To Believe In You, I Gotta Close My Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany is anxious to learn more about Jon. Chance encounters in town lead her a little closer to her goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to meisie for the beta job she did on this chapter.
> 
> Not gonna lie, we are enjoying the hell out of writing this story. We hope you guys enjoy it as much as we are.
> 
> Thank you to my writing partner, JW, for her endless support and her ability to make these gorgeous mood boards for this fic.

**DANY**

 

__ To believe in you, I got to close my eyes   
You want me to say please   
Baby, I can say please   
You want me to get down on my knees   
Baby, I can get down on me knees   
I can say please   
  


__ My will was strong, but my legs were weak   
I could not walk and I could not speak   
Love that you gave me, was so way down south   
Baby, I was born just to kiss your mouth   
You want me to say, please   
Baby, I can say please   
I can say please   
  


__ So I became apart of you   
And you became apart of me   
See, I had no choice but to lie to you, you see   
If I'd told you the truth, you'd a set me free   
You'd a set me free   
  


_ You want me to say, please   
Baby, I can say please _

 

_ Please - Sawyer Fredericks _

 

“Jon!” Rickon yelled from the open door and Daenerys hated how quickly she shot to her feet to peer out the window. 

She sucked in a breath. Jon was standing by his truck, Rickon running towards him. His shocking head full of dark curls were tucked beneath a newsie cap today, his shirt sleeves rolled up his arms. She caught sight of suspenders hidden beneath his navy blue vest as he ruffled Rickon’s hair, his smile wide. The sight of him made her dizzy and her heart skip several beats.

She fought hard against the urge to race outside, a dozen silly reasons to speak to him fighting for release in her spinning mind. But she failed, her usually effortless restraint dissolving like a whiff of smoke. Quickly gathering up the papers on her desk, she tucked them into her portfolio before walking out the front door. She did manage to take her time locking up the school and then going down the few front steps to the walkway.

Rickon had Jon’s undivided attention until he spotted her walking, slowly, back to her house. She could almost feel those big dark eyes mapping her from head to toe. She suppressed a shiver all the while hating herself for the childish ploy she was going to pull, but she did it anyway. With a flick of her thumb, all the papers inside her case fell to the ground, a few fluttering away on the breeze. She immediately bent to grab as many as she could, hearing Rickon scream her name as he took off after the ones that had caught the wind. 

Then Jon was in front of her, crouched down gathering up papers. “Let me help with that,” he murmured. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, keeping her head down and hands busy. Part of her knew she should feel ashamed at her outrageous behavior, but the lascivious side of her reveled in the view she had. 

She’d glanced up at him from beneath her lashes and a rush of heat had coursed through her body, flushing her to the roots of her hair. His strong thighs were spread wide, his britches barely able to withstand the strain, the fabric over them a second skin. His muscular forearms and the map of veins that crisscrossed them drew her eyes but still weren't as mesmerizing as his hands. She could almost feel them running over her bare skin, rough and calloused, gentle, yet wanting. 

And his curls weren’t loose as she’d thought, but pulled back from his face, only the ones at his neck allowed any freedom. Her fingers itched with want, to feel those soft springy locks running through them. The wanton within her wanted to touch much more than that. 

Once he got his bunch in order, he handed them over to her. Their fingers brushed as she took them and she felt the same electricity she had the other night when she’d foolishly put her hand on his arm. 

He must have thought her so improper. He insisted on calling her ma’am or even, God forbid, Miss Storm. Proper gentleman that he was, he had to be appalled by her behavior. 

She’d never been one that fell for pretty faces. They were a dime a dozen in Boston, all dressed in their finest suits, looking to seduce Drogo’s widow or  _ console _ Aerys’ daughter. 

This Jon Snow, however, there was something different about him. Maybe it was the haunted look in his eyes and the way his lips turned up when he smiled or that damn hair. His accent should've sounded quaint and jarring to her ears, instead, she found it utterly endearing. His laugh, even though she’d heard little of it stirred butterflies within her stomach. And how he was with young Rickon melted her heart. She was not a woman that developed crushes so it grated that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

“Thank you,” she said as she tucked them back into her bag. 

He gave her a small smile and she wanted to hit herself for blushing. “You're welcome.”

“I got ‘em, Miss Dany!” Rickon hollered as he ran up to them. Jon stood and held out a hand to help her up, which she took but didn’t let her hand linger too long. 

She turned to Rickon, smiling. “Thank you so very much, Rickon.”

“Lucky I saw your bag open! Those were the tests we took today!”

She chuckled and nodded. “Very lucky. You ran so fast!”

He lowered his head and blushed, kicking at a rock on the ground. “Aww, it was nothin’.”

She looked up at Jon to find him staring at her and for a moment there was silence as their eyes locked.  _ How were his so dark? _ They almost appeared black, even in the glowing afternoon light. 

Dany tried to pull herself together. This was the rural Appalachian hills, not the bustling streets of Boston. People here had nothing better to do than to watch and gossip. She didn’t need to draw any undue attention to herself and lustily staring at the man in front of her would be fodder for sure. 

She only lingered in hope that he’d say something more, give her a reason to continue to talk to him, but the man was infuriatingly silent. He turned his attention to Rickon and steered him to the truck. “How was your first week?” he asked suddenly, finding his voice just as she'd given up hope.

Dany gave an enthusiastic nod. “It’s been wonderful. Although,  _ not _ quite the excitement as the first day and finding a snake in my drawer,” she quipped, winking at him before she could help herself. 

His tongue slipped out, swiping at his full lips, then he was pressing them together tight. He was trying his damnedest to suppress a grin as he looked anywhere but at her. 

She was getting to him, slow but surely, and the knowledge thrilled her all the way to her toes.

Looping his thumbs around his suspenders he glanced back at Rickon who was climbing inside the truck. “I doubt anythin’ would live up to that,” he finally said. 

“Some things might,” she murmured softly, almost hating herself for being so brazen. She was in that town with a mission, not to get involved with some mountain farmer with the best smile she’d ever seen. Only now he wasn’t smiling but had this intensity on his face that caused her to shift on her feet.

He licked his lips again, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by Rickon screaming at him. “Jon! Let’s go! I’m hungry!”

He seemed to shake himself, then looked at her, tipping his cap before turning and walking away. 

She nearly groaned in frustration, instead, she hollered at him. “That’s it?!”

He spun around, looking shocked. “Pardon?”

She exhaled her irritation in a huff. “I purposefully opened the bag so the tests would go flying out to get your attention and all I get is a hat tip?”

His expression was unreadable, for her anyway. He opened his mouth to say something but, once again, Rickon called out, “Jon,  _ come on! _ ”

When he scowled and turned towards the truck, Dany decided it was time to try a different approach. Hurrying into her house and closing the door behind her, she put the portfolio on the table as well as her keys. With a shaky rattled breath she closed her eyes and leaned against the table trying to control her racing heart. _W_ __as_ she really doing this? _ Playing hard to get like some calculating floozy. 

_ Yes, yes she was.  _ She needed to know how he felt, she was tired of trying to read those dark eyes to see what laid on his heart and mind. If he came after her, she’d know. And if he didn't,  _ well _ , then she’d put him behind her. 

She jumped like a spooked cat when a knock sounded on her door. She stood, cursing her trembling hands and opened it to find him on the other side. His truck was parked in front of her house, Rickon watching them wide-eyed from the cab. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest. _He_ _came after her._

Dany met his eyes with her own. His were even more arresting than usual, wide and full of so much emotion all the air left her lungs in a rush. She felt like he was looking straight through to her soul, weighing her. “What’d you want instead?” he asked, his courage apparently found.

Now she felt pinned, a butterfly behind glass. How did she answer  _ that _ question without sounding like a trollop? She dug deep and found the strength inside. She could do this. She could be honest and tell him what she wanted. Raising her chin she met his eyes. “I was hoping you’d ask if you could call on me.”

Jon exhaled a nervous laugh and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “Ya know, it’s funny you say that, cause that’s actually why I came to pick ‘em up. But I chickened out.” He shook his head and looked at his boots for a moment. “Thought you wouldn’t be interested.”

She smiled, affection bubbling in her chest. “I’m interested. So, ask,” she prodded gently.

He chuckled. “Miss Storm...”

“Dany.  _ Please _ call me Dany.” It felt like less of a lie when people called her Dany. 

“Ya know I can’t,” he begged off as he looked at his boots again before meeting her eyes once more. “Would you mind if I called on ya?”

Dany nearly stomped her foot. _ What was she gonna have to do to get him to relax a little?  _ She took a deep breath. _ “ _ I don’t know,” she sighed, crossing her arms under her breasts. She was frustrated and didn’t care if it showed, but she also found she had quite enjoyed her cat and mouse game with him. Having Jon chase her, she didn't mind so much being the mouse. “Your manners seem to be keeping us from getting to know one another,” she said, tartly.

He rolled his eyes and smirked. “You’re a hard lass to pin down.”

“Depends on who’s trying to pin me,” she nearly purred.  _ Lord the things this man brought out in her.  _ Seeing another blush spill across his pretty face though was worth being a bit brazen for. Making him all flustered was quickly becoming one of her favorite pastimes. He was adorable. 

“Would it be alright if I called on you,  _ tomorrow _ ?” he tried again.

She leaned against the door frame and smiled, it was time to let him off the hook. “What time tomorrow?”

“Noon? Picnic maybe?”

“ _ Maybe _ ? Doesn't sound like you’ve thought this all the way through.”

“Trust me, lass, I’ve thought of little else over the last week.”

Dany’s heart did pure somersaults behind her ribs. She bit her lip and nodded. “Noon it is.”

His responding smile was as bright as the sun. “Good. You’ll want a scarf for your head.”

“I will?”

He only smirked as he backed off her porch and went to the truck and climbed in. Rickon was chattering away at him as he gave her a wave and pulled out of her drive. She closed the door behind her and let out a happy sigh. She could do this. She could still get her revenge while getting to know Jon Snow. 

*~*

Daenerys checked her lipstick one last time, the bright red making her teeth look even whiter. It was still startling to look in the mirror and see her normally white blonde hair a rich brown. But it made her eyes stand out and helped hide her in obscurity too. Having nearly white hair was almost like waving a red flag, while the brown could let her lower her head and go unnoticed. 

She stopped when she heard footsteps on her porch, waiting for a knock. But it never came. Moving to her front window she peered out to see Jon pacing back and forth, stopping every few seconds to stare at the door then resume his pacing. His nervousness was endearing. 

She took the moment to look him over, admiring his loose curls, so different from every man she knew. They all kept their hair cut short or slicked back with grease. Not Jon, much to her delight. He also had a beard, short, more of a layer of scruff really, but again so different than anyone else. Beards weren't completely unseen those days, but the men that did have them grew them out long. Dany admired him for bucking the norm, in more ways than one.

He was wearing a dark blue button-down shirt and grey slacks. He hadn’t brought candy or flowers, as some men were prone to do. Instead, he came with hat in hand, literally, knocking it against his knee as he walked. 

She moved away from the window, grabbed her scarf, and opened the door. “Were you planning to knock?” she questioned playfully. He looked up in surprise and soon a blush was coloring her cheeks as his eyes raked appreciatively over her form. Her dress was a soft pale blue silk with red cherries on it, the sleeves loose. It was still rather warm out. “Jon?” she called him. He still hadn’t moved or said a word.

A rush of air left him and he smiled softly. “Sorry. I...I just ain’t never seen a sight so beautiful,” he finally managed.

Dany nearly melted where she stood. She looked down, smoothing her hand over her dress skirt to gather herself. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I know I’m early...”

She waved him off. “Better to be early than late.” She locked the door behind her and tucked her keys into her clutch. “Shall we?”

He smiled and held out his arm for her to take. She looped her hand through it and looked up to see a car instead of the truck he'd been in before. Now she knew why he told her to bring a scarf. He’d put the top down. They’d have plenty of time in the sun and fresh air. After helping her in he donned his hat, walking around and climbing behind the steering wheel. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, not able to contain her curiosity.

“A little place I know,” he said with a grin and started the engine. 

She made sure her scarf was tied tight as he drove off through town and passed the turnoff toward his house. Wherever this adventure took her, she was excited to find it beside him.

*~*

Before long Jon pulled off the main road onto a gravel lane that led into the thick Tennessee forest. The air around them cooled almost immediately, crisp and clean against Dany's bare skin. It lifted the very heart of her, bringing a contented smile to her face. 

She removed her scarf, the wind no longer too harsh, and tilted her head back to watch the trees pass above them. There was green everywhere, bright and springy and lush, golden sunlight streaming through it all. And even above the sound of the engine, she could hear birdsong, their whistles and chirps providing the picturesque scene with a happy melody. Dany thought she could stay there forever and never grow tired or weary again.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Jon's voice came from beside her several minutes later.

She turned to see him smiling knowingly at her. He had one hand on the wheel, his other arm propped along the door, fingers up, catching the cool air. His dark curls were dancing around the back of his neck. 

Her spirits lifted even higher. “It feels absolutely wonderful,” she agreed, hoping he could see how happy she was in that moment. “Thank you for bringing me here, Jon.”

He laughed. “We ain't even got there yet.”

“Maybe not, but this drive alone… It's so beautiful I don't know that I have words for it, but I feel lighter than I have in a very long time,” she admitted quietly. 

He looked proud as punch to hear that, his smile so sweet it almost hurt. “Nothin’ like good ole mountain air to ease one's burdens,” he said and turned back to watch the road. 

It ran out just ahead of them, so he slowed to a gentle stop and turned off the engine, then hopped out and grabbed a small basket and the folded up quilt that had been laying in the back seat. Dany was already waiting for him by the time he got to her side. 

He smirked. “In a hurry? I was comin’ to get the door for ya.”

“Just eager to see where you're taking me,” she replied, smiling and taking his offered arm.

He led the way down a small path, the dirt packed tight from use and winding through a carpet of ferns and moss that spread to either side.

“How do you know about this place?”

“Pa used to bring us here to let us swim. Easy way to get us out of their hair for a while,” he said with a laugh as they started down a steeper part of the path. He turned and held his hand out for her to take.

“If I knew we were going to be mountain climbing, I would have worn my other shoes,” she joked and he chuckled. 

“Apologies. I’ll clean ‘em for ya when we get back to the car.”

She could hear water rushing and gurgling ahead and after a few more minutes of climbing down, they reached the bank of a narrow river.  A small waterfall fell over a tumble of rocks to their right. The cascade emptied into a deep pool before continuing on down river. Wildflowers ran along each side of it. The small clearing they were standing in was scattered with them too. It was enchanting. 

“Jon. It's gorgeous.”

He just grinned and flung out the quilt, letting it float to the ground, then placed the basket on it. Kicking off her shoes she took the hand he held out to help her sit, then tucked her legs beneath her as he joined her. 

He opened the basket and handed her a perfectly wrapped sandwich. “Made by my  _ suspicious  _ sister, Arya,” he said with a laugh then removed two mason jars of what looked to be sweet tea.

“Arya was suspicious? Why?”

“I didn’t tell her why I needed two or to have ‘em wrapped.”

She tilted her head, eyeing him for a moment. “Ashamed of me?”

He snorted out a laugh. “Not hardly.”

“Then why not tell her?”

He furrowed his brow and looked at her. “Do you have any siblings?”

Nodding slowly she unwrapped her sandwich. “I had two brothers.” She let the sentence hang in the air, allowing him to digest that she’d lost family without her having to say it. 

He frowned, his eyes cast down to his own sandwich. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, not really knowing how much to tell him but she could see he would berate himself for it the rest of the afternoon if she didn’t put a stop to it. “You couldn't have known. It’s fine. I mean...it’s not fine that they’re gone...but I can talk about them. Or not. You can tell me to stop talking but I don’t promise that I will.”

He gave her that painfully sweet smile again. “I like it you when you talk.” _Lord, could he get any_ _more endearing? “_ Anyway, the reason I didn’t tell her is I never woulda heard the end of it. Nothin’ delights her more than teasin’ her brothers about their girls.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Girls? And just how many  _ girls _ are we talking?”

Something flickered in his eyes. He looked towards the river. “There’s only ever been one for Robb. And mine...well, she died in the war. She was a nurse. The field hospital was bombed.” He heaved a sigh. “Arya wrote me a letter to tell me.”

She frowned then. “I’m so sorry, Jon. Both of my brothers...”

There was a pregnant pause between them, then he sighed. “Tyrants ruin this world and then expect us to pick up the pieces. How’s that fair?” he asked, anger laced in his tone. 

He’d been through the war. She’d heard that much in town. Had earned a medal, she wasn’t sure which one. Yet, he was still humble, the recognition seemed to matter little to him. 

She sighed and looked out at the water. “Life’s not fair, I’m afraid. We all suffer.”

“Seems to me, some suffer more than others.”

She nodded. “They do.” She took a bite of the sandwich and looked up and out at the river, deciding they needed to talk of lighter things. “So, tell me about yourself, Mister Snow,” she prodded. She loved that he wrinkled his nose in disgust every time she called him that. She hoped that he would hate it enough to stop calling her Miss Storm.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Well, I don't know a lot about you other than you help take care of your cousins, you can drive, and you hate the formality of your name but insist on doing the same to me,” she teased.

He smirked. “Yet you agreed to come with me? I could be a crazed killer.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Should I fear for my life?”

“You’re safe. For now,” he told her, winking.

“What a pity. I was very much hoping you would chase me.”

His dark eyes met hers, heat filling them and she could feel a current of electricity moving through her very blood. He cleared his throat and took a gulp of his tea. “Tell me somethin’ ‘bout you.” 

She looked out at the river again and wondered how honest to be. He didn’t seem like the sort of person to gossip, nor did he seem like the type that would use anything she said against her. Something just told her she could trust him, so she would. “What do you want to know?”

“How’d you end up here?” 

She gave him a small smile. “I closed my eyes, pointed to a map, and here I am.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Not sure I believe that.”

 

She shrugged. “You don't have to.” She could clearly see the fear spark in his eyes. Probably worried he’d just offended her. But she wasn't and had no desire to leave him worried. “Stop looking like that, I’m not offended.”

Relief flooded his handsome face, a rush of air leaving him. 

“You really haven't had a girl since you lost her, have you?” she asked gently, the ache in her heart for him even stronger than she expected it to be. She knew grief all too well, they were old friends.

Jon shook his head, his full lips pressed together and his fingers fidgeting as he looked past her, no doubt seeing memories instead of what was right in front of him. She reached over and put a hand on his leg. “I got us off subject. Ask me something else.”

He turned and looked at her, his smile small but still reaching his eyes. They crinkled at the corners and the sight made her feel weak all the way to her bones. “You mentioned brothers. Anyone else you left back in Boston?” he asked. “Can’t imagine someone like you-”

“Someone like me?” she questioned him, playfully.

Another endearing blush colored his cheeks. He really was the most irresistible man she’d ever known. “Yes, someone like you,” he replied with a touch of sass. “Besides bein’ more beautiful than any woman has a right to be–” She snorted and rolled her eyes. It didn’t deter him. “You might as well be a summer day and Christmas mornin’ all in one,” he continued. “I don’t know whether to just enjoy the warmth or start pulling at your ribbons to find the present underneath.”

_Dear_ _Lord in heaven, this man just might be the death of her._ Just the thought of him _unwrapping_ her had her heart skittering. She couldn’t believe such a quiet humble man had the ability to undo her with just his pretty words. And she was certain he really had no idea about the power of his own charms either.

She’d always been immune to that, in the past. Many men had tried and failed with her. But Jon Snow had her transfixed. She shook herself and remembered what had sparked the conversation in the first place. She decided on some honesty. “I’m a widow.”

His dark brows knitted together in concern. “I’m sorry.”

She gave him a sad smile and looked back at the rushing water. Then her hand was in his and it was as if lightning had shot through her arm. She didn’t know how he was able to affect her so, but she never wanted it to end. She gave his fingers a brief squeeze before she released him. “This has been a rather depressing conversation.”

He frowned and looked down at the blanket. “Sorry.”

She chuckled. “Don’t apologize. We’re two damaged people, obviously. Best to get all this morbid stuff out first, I suppose. Then no more of our time spent together can be haunted by ghosts from the past.” He seemed to almost sag in relief at that. “I must ask about your hair,” she finally said. 

His laugh was a welcome sound and she fell harder every time she saw the crinkle of lines around his eyes. “You waited longer to ask than I thought you would.”

She shrugged. “At least I waited. So, come on, tell me.”

“How much do you know about mountain folks?”

“As much as I’ve learned about you in the space of a few conversations.”

He propped his arm on his raised knee and smiled at her. “They’re naturally superstitious, and I ain't no different. Seems to me, in my life, every time I cut my hair, somethin’ bad happened. After the war, I just stopped lettin’ Arya cut it. We have enough of the bad that I’m not willin’ to bring it down on us even more over somethin’ as silly as hair.” He shrugged and fiddled with the worn leather lace of his boot. “I also don’t like my head getting cold in winter.”

She laughed but stopped when Jon looked up as thunder tumbled through the air above them. Looking up herself she saw dark clouds rolling over the canopy of trees. He was on his feet in an instant. Before she could even get her shoes on, it had started to rain. Jon gave her the quilt to cover herself with, but she was already soaked through. 

They ran back up the path, Jon wrapping an arm around her waist to help her up the embankment. They made the mad dash to the car only to realize the top was still down. They both laughed at their predicament and worked together to put it back in place then climbed inside, safe from the rain but the damage was done. 

Both of them were soaked to the bone and still laughing. He was just as handsome all wet as he was dry. His dark curls hung limply around his face, dripping water onto his shirt that clung to him just the way she wanted to, her mind painting a clear picture of the smooth hard muscles underneath. She desperately wanted to touch him and from the way he stared back at her, silent, eyes flashing and full lips parted to allow uneven breaths to leave him… she knew he wanted it too.

As her eyes caught sight of a drop of water rolling down his neck, she moved a bit closer and pressed her lips to his, unable to resist any longer. They were soft and cold and possibly the best thing in the entire world. Relief flooded her when his hands came up to cup her face, holding her gently and she sought to deepen the kiss, her tongue tracing along his lips as she rested a hand over his heart, the other grasped in his wet curls. She moaned softly when he pulled back from her, sucking her bottom lip gently before he released her. 

Her blood was pounding in her ears, breath stalled in her throat. Lightning streaked across the sky, but her gooseflesh was for another reason. Jon’s dark eyes hovered between her eyes and her mouth. She waited, breathless for him kiss her again. But he didn’t, the boom of thunder that echoed through the car pulling him further away. Still his eyes took her in, sweeping over her. He reached beneath the seat and produced a dry blanket, quickly wrapping it around her shoulders. She hadn’t even realized she was shivering until she felt it’s comfort. But to her disappointment, he started up the car, turned around, and took them back towards town.

Dany didn't understand, and her mind whirled with questions.  _ Was that it? The end of their date? And if so, was it because of the rain or their kiss? _ She longed to ask him, to have him tell her that it wasn’t either of those things. Instead, she stayed silent, and so did he. 

Soon they pulled up in front of her house, the rain pelting the roof of the car adding to her dreary mood. Just as she reached for the door handle, Jon’s voice cut through her dark and brooding thoughts, rough and gravely, “There’s a fair next weekend.” Her heart soared and she couldn’t help but smile but waited for him to actually ask. “Would you like to go with me?”

She looked at him for the first time since they’d left the forest. “I’d love to,” she whispered.

“Good.” He smiled, nervous, his hands flexing around the steering wheel. “It’s just, the more I’m around you...the more I want to be,” he admitted softly, looking out the windshield. 

He seemed reluctant to confess that, but it caused her to move over on the seat and turn his face to hers. His dark eyes stared back, full of heat and want, she nearly climbed on top of him. Instead, she pressed her lips to his again. He tasted of rain and sweet tea and it was as intoxicating as one of her father’s whiskeys. 

When they broke apart this time, it was for her own sanity. She simply couldn’t sit in the car with him, kissing like they were, both of them wet and trembling. It would be her doom. 

His thumb traced her bottom lip causing her breath to catch. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he whispered. 

She nodded, swallowing deep, and watched him climb out into the rain then open her door for her. He covered her head with his vest as best he could. Once on the porch, she unlocked her door and turned back to him, a bright smile she had no control over on her face. “What sort of shoes should I wear to the fair?”

He laughed. “Your best walkin’ heels will work.”

She looked down nervously and sighed, not wanting it to end any more than he did. “Will I see you between now and then?”

He smiled and nodded. “I do have a little brother who has to go to school. I reckon I could be the one to pick him up.”

She suddenly remembered the stack of books on the table beside the door. “Oh! I have something for Bran,” she said as she stepped inside and picked up the three books and brought them back out to him. “He doesn’t attend school but there’s no reason he can’t learn along with the rest of them. And I’d be happy to help him with anything he was unclear about.”

Jon looked at the spines, then back at her, his expression unreadable with his furrowed brow and tight lips. “I’m gonna go.”

“Wait,” she called and he turned to face her again. “Did I do something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I just have to leave or the whole neighborhood will see me kiss you.”

She bit her bottom lip to dampen her smile. “I don’t mind.”

He looked around at the few scattered houses around hers then back at her. “Maybe not. But they would.” He gave her a nod and a bright smile. “Good day, Miss Storm.”

“I think we’re at a place now where you can call me Dany.”

He looked up at the sky, the storm had started to ebb. He stepped off and walked back towards the car. “I think that requires no less than  _ three  _ kisses.”

She chuckled and leaned against the porch post. “You’re a dangerous man, Jon Snow.”

He tucked the books into the front seat and closed the door. “Funny, I was thinkin’ somethin’ very similar ‘bout you.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Go before I change my mind and kiss you in front of the whole town.”

Jon tipped his hat to her one more time then went around the car and climbed in. He waved as he pulled away and sped off down the street.

Dany went into her house and closed the door, leaning back against it and sinking to the floor. Head in her hands, heart racing with thoughts of his kiss, his hands, his smile. “Oh Dany, what have you done?”

*~*

She did everything she could to push thoughts of Jon Snow from her mind. She marked her students’ tests, she worked up a plan for teaching the next week, she unpacked a few more boxes, and even tried to do the needlepoint her mother had taught her at a young age but which she actually hated. No book held her interest and plotting and scheming against the Lannisters hadn’t brought her solace either. Her mind continued to fixate on those soft full lips, eyes as dark as the richest chocolate, and the taste of his mouth. 

She stood up and paced her living room, willing herself to focus. She had a mission here, a real mission, and she couldn’t let herself get so swept off course that she forgot that. She needed more information on the Lannisters. She  _ needed _ to get out of her house and concentrate on anything else besides Jon Snow.

She slipped on her red shoes, the same she’d worn the day she marched up the mountain to talk to the Starks about Rickon. They were comfortable and went with nearly everything. After putting a bit of money into her clutch she set off into town. 

She passed the Sheriff’s office first. There was an older man seated behind his desk, a deputy sweeping up near the window. The barbershop came next, several men sitting outside. They stared as she walked by, watching her every step with glee. It disgusted her to feel their eyes on her, one even whistled once she'd passed. Some men were no better than pigs. 

She knew an exception.

She chastised herself again for letting her thoughts wander back to Jon. Just because other men were no better than their ancestors that used clubs to drag women by the hair to their caves, didn’t mean she should automatically think of Jon and how superior he was to them in every way. 

He was though. He still called her  _ ma’am  _ after all, and it was her who had kissed him, and he’d never treated her with anything but respect, which was a breath of fresh air. 

She entered the general store. She wasn’t actually looking for anything in particular, more like listening around public areas for information. 

Unfortunately, it appeared she was the only person in the store. Already there, she decided to look around, less suspicious that way. The patchwork quilts on display caught her eye. She’d heard it could get rather cold there in the winter, probably not Boston cold, but nonetheless, she didn't bring any blankets to speak of. As she ran her hand over one particularly fetching quilt she heard voices coming from a back room.

“That last batch you brought a few days ago had somethin’ special in it. Was it peach?” A large man with shocking red hair and a big, bushy beard to match exited from the backroom, a petite brunette and a muscular dark-haired man following her. His eyes were a striking blue. 

“Now where would we get peaches this time a year or from anyone other than  _ you _ ? You know Jon, he always figures ways to make it sweeter.”

Dany nearly knocked over the stack of cans she was standing near hearing his name. She surmised that the girl must be his sister, Arya. Her  _ graceful _ display had caught the attention of all three and she felt pinned in place by their gazes, specifically the girl.

She watched with a bit of fear as the girl handed over her pad and pencil to the dark haired man then walked around the counter heading straight for her. She stopped a few feet in front of Dany, smiling. “You're the new schoolmarm. Dany, right?”

She nodded, unsure where the conversation might go and slightly disturbed by how intimidating the young girl could be for someone so small. She gathered her wits about her and extended her hand. “Dany Storm, and yes, I’m the new teacher.”

“Arya Waters,” she said with a predatory smile, shaking her hand. “You’re the secret sandwich.”

Dany tilted her head, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Jon and his secret rendezvous. Had me pack a lunch, then didn’t tell me where or who he was goin’ with. It’s a shame I had to get information about Jon’s romantic life from a six-year-old.” Things clicked into place and Daenerys blushed, which caused Arya’s smile to widen. She didn’t know what to say but that didn’t matter. Arya didn't slow down. “Seems you’ve made quite an impression on my family.”

“Oh...well...Jon is...I mean...Rickon. Sorry, I don't know what to say.”

The darker haired man suddenly appeared behind Arya and put a hand on her shoulder. “Ignore her. It’s what’s best,” he said, extending his other hand. “Gendry Waters. It’s nice to put a face to the name Rickon’s always talkin’ ‘bout when I drive him to school. High praise, rest assured.”

“Meanwhile,” Arya started firmly and narrowed her eyes at Daenerys, “Jon has remained tight-lipped, which I hate by the way. So, what’re your intentions with my beloved brother?”

Gendry made a face at her. “Cousin.”

Arya scowled up at him over her shoulder. “He’s  _ my _ brother in the only way that matters,” she snarled.

Daenerys nearly laughed at how Gendry backed off, hands up, leaving her to fight her own battles. “I don’t know that I have intentions towards Jon,” Dany said. She had  _ ideas _ a-plenty of what she’d like to do with him, but she wouldn’t be telling any of them to his sister, cousin, or anyone else.

“But you went with him the other day?”

Dany's eyes cut over to the red-headed man. She didn't feel safe divulging much in front of him. “He asked me to lunch and I accepted.”

“Where’d you go?” Arya shot off again.

Growing tired of the interrogation, she huffed out an irritated breath. “No offense, but what happens and  _ where  _ it happens between Jon and me is our business. Unless he wants to tell you then it remains between us. I won't break his trust.”

Dany worried for half a moment she’d offended the girl, but Arya suddenly smiled. “I like you,” she declared. “You can keep a secret.” Just like that, she was satisfied. She turned around and got straight back to business. “Tormund, you and Gendry get the jars and sugar loaded up. I’ll watch the storefront for ya.”

“Ya hear that boy?” the man grumbled. “She’s ain't even my wife an she's bossin’ me 'round.”

Daenerys smiled, noticing they both did as they were told regardless. The confrontation seemingly over, she turned her attention back to the quilts.

“Whatcha need a quilt in this heat for?” Arya asked.

“Not for now, but I’ve heard the winters can get cold here.”

Arya nodded. “They certainly can. But it’s even better if you got someone warmin’ your bed.”

Daenerys felt herself blush at the insinuation. “Yes, well, it’s just me.”

Gathering up the first one that had caught her eye, she walked to the register with it. She pulled some money from her clutch and handed it to Arya who’d followed her over.

“Welp, reckon I'll probably see ya 'round,” Arya said with a smirk. 

“I'm sure you will,” Dany agreed with a smile. “It was nice meeting you both,” she added over her shoulder as she walked out.

Back on the sidewalk again, Dany realized, with some trepidation, that she’d have to walk past the barbershop once more if she wanted to get home. She could see them all still sitting in front of the shop, nearly blocking the sidewalk. There was nothing for it, she held her head high and kept walking.

As soon as she got close one of them stood in her path, his blue eyes narrowed on her. “Would you like some help home, Miss?”

She gave him a fake smile. “No, thank you.” 

She went to step around him and he stepped in her way again. “I can help you carry that warm quilt home. Show you how to properly use it, if you’d like.”

Dany rolled her eyes as the others laughed at his joke. “I can manage on my own. If you’ll excuse me.” She made to step around him again, but once more he was in her path. The first spark of fear caught her heart.

“You’re being rather rude,” he said softly, though she heard the edge to his voice. 

Refusing to be cowed she straightened her shoulders. “I think  _ you’re _ being rude. You won’t let me pass unharassed.”

“You’ve got a mouth on–” 

The blare of a horn honking cut him off and suddenly Gendry was in front of her harasser. “This doesn’t concern you, Waters,” the man sneered.

“It concerns me, Bolton, when you harass young women,” Gendry replied, his voice quiet and deadly. He looked over the other men on the bench, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “And shame on all y’all for sittin’ there and laughin',” he chided them. Most of the men hung their heads, but not all. Gendry put a gentle hand on her elbow. “Miss Storm, let Arya and me ‘scort you home.” She nodded and headed towards the truck where Arya was putting her wolf in the bed. Gendry followed and opened the door for her, closing it once she'd gotten in, turning back to the men and pointing a harsh finger at an older gentleman. “Mind your boy, Roose. Ya need to keep him on a tighter leash.”

Gendry jumped in the truck and sped off down the street. 

“You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you, both,” Daenerys breathed out.

“Ramsay Bolton’s a monster,” Arya snarled. “He’s been allowed to get away with what he does cause his pa is friends with Tywin Lannister.”

A shot of adrenaline ran through Dany, she quickly decided playing stupid was the best idea. “Who’s Tywin Lannister?” she asked.

“He runs everything,” Gendry said with a roll of his eyes. “Little towns like this, bigger towns like Atlanta and Shreveport. He’s got his greasy fingers in everything, everywhere. Best steer clear of ‘em.”

Daenerys nodded. “So, they’re bad people. Got it.”

“The worst. Well, ‘cept for Tyrion. He’s not so bad,” Arya said.

“He’s still a Lannister. You seem to ignore that,” Gendry grumbled.

“I don’t ignore it,” Arya shot back. “But Tyrion’s always done right by us. I ain't gonna hold his family’s sins against him. Sides, they treat him as bad as they do everyone else.”

“How so?” Daenerys asked.

“He’s a dwarf. The only one in his family I ever seen be nice to ‘em is his brother, Jaime. But even he’s a prick,” Arya said with a huff. 

Gendry pulled up to Dany's house then and got out to open the door for her. Arya moved over in the seat and shut the door behind her. “Thank you again for your help,” Dany told them, hurrying onto her porch.

Gendry gave her a nod and went back around the truck as Arya called out from the passenger side. “You be careful in town. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to Jon’s favorite teacher,” she said with a bright smile before she waved and Gendry pulled off.

Daenerys closed the door behind her and locked it. She put the quilt on the arm of the sofa then walked into her bedroom and pulled the notepad from the bedside table and added four names to the list: Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Roose Bolton, Ramsay Bolton. She stared at them for a few moments before she tucked the list away once more. 

She’d need a lot more information about all of them before she could discover if any would be useful in her task of bringing down Tywin and his evil empire.

*~*

Daenerys was standing by the stove, slicing a tomato when a knock at her front door caught her by surprise. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked to it, seeing Jon Snow’s pretty face through the glass. She almost hated how her stomach flipped at seeing him, but her smile was bright despite herself. “This is a surprise.”

Jon didn't look nearly as happy to see her, his brow knitted darkly over his eyes. “Arya and Gendry told me ‘bout Ramsay. You alright?” he rushed out.

_ Bless his sweet soul, coming all the way down here just to check on her. _

Dany gave him a small smile and nodded, holding the door open for him to come inside. He hesitated but soon stepped in. “Thanks to them, I’m fine. It was very sweet of you to come check on me, Jon. You didn't have to do that. The way everyone talks about this Ramsay you’d think he was the boogeyman.”

“He’s worse ‘cause he’s real,” he said, his worried eyes looking her over as if he still wasn't satisfied she was alright. “He’s got a history a’ hurtin’ women. Did it to one of Sansa’s friends a few years back.”

She frowned. “Did  _ what _ exactly?” The dark look on Jon’s face let her know exactly what he’d done. All she could muster was an, “Oh.”

“But you’re alright? He didn’t touch you, did he?”

She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m fine, Jon. He didn't touch me. He was simply annoying. But thank goodness for your sister and brother-in-law. He’s nice,” she said as she went back into the kitchen and he followed. 

“Arya can be intimidating for someone so small. Catches people off guard,” Jon offered. “Those who ain’t intimidated by her are by Gendry and Nymeria.”

“Which helps since they’re your delivery system,” she finished for him, as she resumed slicing her tomato. 

His feet shuffled against her linoleum floor. “I ah... I ain't sure I know what you're talkin’ ‘bout.”

Dany chuckled softly. “I thought that maybe you just liked to drink moonshine and that’s why it was in the truck, but I’ve heard about a pair of brothers making it better than anyone else in five counties. After seeing Arya and Gendry loading up all those jars and sugar at the store today, it clicked.” She put a hand on the edge of the counter and one on her hip. “You’re bootleggers.”

He shook his head and looked down at the floor. “I don’t know if I like how smart you are.”

She put a little salt on the tomato and walked over to him, holding out the plate. “You do. It’s a very attractive quality.”

He gave a slight grunt. “You offerin’ to feed me, Miss Storm?”

“If it means I can keep you here longer, yes I am.”

He straightened at that. “I probably shouldn’t. Someone could see my car...”

“You’re so afraid of what the town thinks of you?”

He shook his head. “Make no mistake, ma’am, their opinion of me couldn’t be lower. That don’t mean I gotta drag you down with me.”

She put the plate on the table, her hands on her hips, and scowled. “Why do they feel that way about you?” She couldn't imagine a soul not liking Jon, the thought of a whole town shunning him… That made her blood boil.

“I’m the bastard a’ the Stark family, with a dead and disgraced Ma. People still care ‘bout that sort a’ thing 'round here.”

“Then that’s their problem,” she snapped.

Jon frowned and shook his head. “I don’t want it to become yours, too.”

She realized then why their first outing together had been so private, why he was still so formal with her. He was trying to protect her. Her heart swelled with something she didn't want to put a name to yet. She stepped closer to him and took his hand in hers. “You’re a good man,” she said softly. “Not many men would care to protect my reputation if it meant they could get what they wanted. My opinion of you is soaring, not that it could go much higher.”

He furrowed his brow, slipped his hand from hers and shoved both into his pockets. “It don’t bother you we’re bootleggin’ shine all over the county?”

“It would bother me if it was poor quality,” she said with a smile. “My father owned a few speakeasies in Boston. Running liquor doesn’t offend me in the least.”

He released a nervous laugh. “Who  _ are _ you? You’re just...I feel like the more I get to know ya the more there is to know.”

“I feel the same about you,” she whispered.

At that, Jon leaned down and brushed his lips against hers for the briefest moment, but Dany wasn't going to let him get away this time. She raised up on her toes and followed his lips, pulling on his suspenders to get him closer. His hands slid along her upper arms as their mouths joined, their kiss quickly becoming heated. She sighed into his mouth as he pulled her against him, her body igniting with heat. She was swept up in him, the feel of his body against hers, the soft heat of his tongue, the small growl that seemed to emanate from him before he took her mouth at a new angle. 

Then he pulled back and stepped out of her arms abruptly. “This...this is dangerous.” She took several deep breaths herself, leaning against the doorframe as he paced a little then stopped to stare at her. “I ain't usually...I don’t do this,” he said, his husky voice nearly sending a shiver down her spine.  

She couldn’t help but smile. “I know,” she reassured him. She knew he wasn’t some cad who kissed a lot of women. “I believe you.”

He walked the short distance back to her and he was so close that the very scent of him made her dizzy. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes and she brushed her fingers along his bearded jaw. “You got me so spun 'round I don’t know if I’m lookin' at the ground or the sky,” he breathed out in a rush. 

She released a nervous laugh. “Good. Then it’s not just me.”

“I  _ need _ to leave.” 

The implication of his words hung heavy between them. She knew he was probably right. This was too much too soon. They’d only had one proper date. She knew there needed to be more. More truths exchanged between them, more trust, more time, but the real truth was she was scared. She’d never felt this way before. 

She nodded finally, agreeing that he did, indeed, need to go. But only so she could hold on to some self-control. He looked like he was going to kiss her again, but she knew if he did she wouldn’t stop him, or them from taking it to its obvious conclusion. She turned her eyes away from his and he stepped back from her and walked to the door. 

“Lock both locks and the one on your back door too,” he told her before he opened the door. 

“You know what?” she asked, following him as he walked out onto the porch.

“What?” 

She smiled wickedly. “You’ve kissed me three times.” 

His mouth opened, then closed again. He let out a groan knowing she’d got him. But soon a grin was tugging at his pretty mouth. He shook his head. “Don’t know how comfortable I’ll be with it, but I reckon I set the terms, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. And I hear that you’re an honest man.”

“I am. Or I try to be,” he said with a shrug and a reluctant smile.

“Goodnight,  _ Jon _ .”

He chuckled. “Goodnight,  _ Dany _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was that? Ramsay is an asshole. Gendry and Arya to the rescue. Jon is all worried, fluffy, heart eyed bean. And Dany is a woman with a mission. So, let's hear your thoughts!


	4. We Can Light a Match and Burn It Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery is faced with a scary situation, she and Robb finally start to hash out their past, and time with the boys makes her realize a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely Justwanderingneverlost made the gorgeous mood board for this chapter. Isn't it stunning? Writing with her has been an absolute dream! She listens to my hairbrained ideas for plot and helps figure out how they can work...and she's just inspiring me all the time with these gorgeous mood boards she makes. No one does it better, in my opinion.
> 
> Thanks to Meisie for betaing this chapter for us. She's just the best and makes sure our smut (as well as the rest of the fic) is on point. You're lovely, we adore you, and thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
> A monumental shoutout to the Tarts who we love dearly! Sparkles59, meisie, FrostBitePanda, NoOrdinaryLines, and last, but not least, Jaqtkd! Having you in our lives is just a pleasure and we're both so grateful to know you! 
> 
> Also, going to admit that the song choice for this chapter "Dust to Dust" by the Civil Wars was on repeat as I (Ashley) was writing several scenes for this chapter.
> 
> And a huge thanks to all of you who have been so supportive of this endeavor of ours. We love writing this fic and we love writing it together.

 

**MARGAERY**

 

 _It's not your eyes_  
_It's not what you say_  
_It's not your laughter that gives you away_  
_You're just lonely_  
You've been lonely, too long  
  
_All your actin'_  
_Your thin disguise_  
_All your perfectly delivered lies_  
_They don't fool me_  
You've been lonely, too long  
  
_Let me in the wall, you've built around_  
_And we can light a match and burn it down_  
Let me hold your hand and dance  
_‘round and 'round the flame_  
_In front of us_  
Dust to dust  
  
_You've held your head up_  
_You've fought the fight_  
_You bear the scars_  
_You've done your time_  
_Listen to me_  
You've been lonely, too long  
  
_You're like a mirror, reflecting me_ _  
_ Takes one to know one, so take it from me

_You’ve been lonely, too long_

_Dust to Dust  
_ **_The Civil Wars_ **

 

Her reflection stared back at her in the mirror. She was glad to see the bruising and swelling were almost completely gone, even if she could still feel the blows to her face, his hand grabbing at her throat, the harsh feeling of him trying to push himself into her unwilling body.

She leaned against the dresser, face in her hands, struggling to catch her breath. She was safe with Robb, she knew that. He loved her, would do anything for her. But she couldn't help the nagging weight of doubt that sat heavy in her belly. The fears that haunted her.

Other than a few kisses, comforting hugs, and lying together in bed, they hadn’t had sex since she’d arrived. Before her sham of a marriage, they’d never been able to keep their hands off one another whenever they were together. She couldn't help but be worried.

He was angry at her, she was certain. And while she knew he still loved her too, that didn't mean he could handle the scars she’d built between them. She’d married another man and broke his heart. Her own ached as well as a fresh gaping wound for the pain she’d caused him, but she hadn't been given a choice. Her family had insisted and she’d been powerless. The fact that they had threatened to disown her, to never speak to her again still filled her with such anger she shook with it. They should’ve loved her enough to let her be happy with the man she chose. The man her heart had always belonged to. She should’ve left with Robb when he asked her to, and never looked back.

But she didn't, they had seeded so many doubt within her mind against him. Her grandmother, ever practical, had sat her down and explained how things would be, continuously reminding her that poverty only seemed like a novel concept until one suffered through it. And she wouldn't let her forget that with Robb there also came the responsibility of a family as well.

She had convinced her that Robb would find some mountain girl who would take the ready-made family and be just what they needed, that Margaery just wasn't mother material. She had _hated_ the thought, wanted to claw the face of that figurative woman, but something within her, some small piece had agreed. So she’d given in to the inevitable and made the only choice she thought she had.

Several cars pulling up in front of the house startled her from her thoughts. She peered out the window for only a moment before rushing into Bran’s room. He already had the hatch open for her. He held her hand as she jumped down, then closed it behind her. The distinct sound of the wheels of his chair creaking over wood came from above then stopped. He must have rolled on top of the hatch. _Clever boy._

The dirt beneath her was dry as powder, cool and soft against her skin. The smell, musty and old, tickling her nose. _Please_ _God_ , _no sneezing, not now._ Cobwebs clung to the floorboards just above her, she flattened herself as much as she could, the thought of a dozen spiders dropping down to investigate what had disturbed their home sending a shiver through her. She peered out towards the front yard and could see five men get out of the cars. They walked up and stood in front of the house.

“Can I help you?” Jon’s gruff voice called out.  All five pairs of shiny shoes halted. The screen door slammed and Jon’s voice came again, “Rickon, get back in the house, boy.”

“Now, don’t send him away on our account.”

Her body went rigid with fear hearing Joffrey’s voice then turned to a panic as the sound of crunching debris filled the air. She twisted her head around to see Shaggydog crawling on his belly towards her. All her air left her in a rush. The wolf stopped beside her, his soft fur pressed along her side. He licked at her shoulder with his sandpaper tongue. _Sweet Rickon, you wonderful boy_.

Movement caught their eye and they both looked left to see Robb’s boots walking up from the field. Arya and Gendry right behind him.

“What do you want, Lannister?” he called out, walking toward the other group of men. The anger in his voice sent her heart fluttering wildly in her throat.

“I believe you have something of mine,” Joffrey sneered.

She narrowed her eyes, anger sparking in her blood to replace the fear. _I may be married to you but you don’t own me_.

“I don’t have anythin’ that _belongs_ to you. Why would I? I ain’t been anywhere near your place,” Robb’s voice cut across her thoughts.

“I meant Margaery, you half-wit,” that nasally voice snapped back. She wanted to scramble out and slap Joffrey across his pinched face.

There was a heavy silence and then Robb spoke again, barely contained fury, mixed with convincing confusion. “What the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout?”

_That’s good, my love. Play dumb. He expects you to be unintelligent. Let him think he’s right._

Joffrey huffed. “Margaery and I had a bit of a spat the other day. She overreacted. I haven’t seen her in over a week. Rumor in town is you’re her old flame.”

“ _Old_ flame, being the key word,” he clarified for Joffrey, obviously trying to throw him and his goons off the scent. “She made it clear when she married _you_ how she felt on the subject.” He’d added just enough bitterness to his voice that she knew some of what he’d said was true. Her poor love. There was a pregnant pause, he shifted on his feet before he spoke again. “The question I have is what’d you do _to_ Margaery to make her leave? That girl’s a bushel of dynamite and wouldn’t leave cause you had a fight.” He took a few steps forward and stopped. “You hurt her?”

“She’s my _wife_. I can do whatever I want to her,” Joffrey answered, his vicious tone cutting through her and nearly causing her to gag. The man was a monster, through and through. She’d been a fool to believe she could make him behave and adhere to what she wanted. Joffrey was crazy enough that no amount of cajoling would ever bring him to heel.

Shaggydog nudged her and she reached out, burying a hand in his fur, his presence bringing her peace. Robb and Jon would protect her. The whole family would. She had no doubt.

“Search the house,” her _husband_ ordered.

The very distinctive sound of a shotgun being cocked filled the air. Joffrey and his men shuffled back. No doubt all of them had a gun aimed their way, a Stark, Waters, or Snow standing behind it.

“Listen here, you little weasel,” Robb bit out. “Margaery ain’t here. Ain’t been here, neither. But you can fuckin’ believe I’ll blow a hole in your goddamn head if even one of your men steps foot on my porch.”

“We’ll rush you,” someone spat. Meryn Trant if she was to guess.

“You’ll have t’ be a better shot than the rest a’ us,” Arya said then. “Then our wolves will pick your bones clean. No one will ever find you.”

Margaery couldn't help but smile, the spunk of that girl was something else.

Ghost, Grey Wind, Nymeria, and Summer prowled toward the unwanted guests. Even Shaggydog bared his teeth. The men were soon climbing back into their cars, the wolves growling and snarling at them every step of the way.

“I’ll be back, Stark. I know she’s here,” Joffrey shouted.

“Maybe she finally got the good sense to leave this town and you. She could do better!” Robb hollered back.

Joffrey’s car sped off followed by the other. Margaery’s head dropped to the ground, trying not to sob in relief. _His property_. That’s how Joffrey viewed her. The sniveling little coward. The hatch suddenly opened above her, Robb’s face hovering, his clear blue eyes bright with concern. Her tears did fall then. He held out both hands to her and she scrambled up, letting him lift her from the ground.

His arms went around her in a quick reassuring hug, then he pulled back and took her hand. “Jon, watch the boys. Margaery and I are goin’ to talk,” he said as he led her to the back door.

“Be careful,” Jon called after them from the living room.

They walked down the familiar trail to the small clearing where they’d played as children. _Their_ spot.

Her father had been friends with Ned Stark. They were two very different men, but they got along well. He brought her to Winter's Peak for the first time when she was only five years old and she’d met the boy with auburn curls, sky blue eyes, and a ready smile.

He was like no boy she'd ever known. Her young child’s heart loved how he played with her, even though she was a silly girl. The others were around, Jon, Sansa, tiny Arya, but she barely noticed them, all her attention on the affable boy who treated her no different than he did any of his friends.

She always begged to go along whenever her Father planned to visit after that. As soon as her feet hit the ground she and Robb would run to their spot. He’d push her on the swing for hours as they talked about nonsense when they were younger, then their hopes and dreams as they grew. Robb wanted to go off and join the army and be a soldier. She wanted to have a gaggle of children and live in a nice house.

When they’d reached the cusp of their teen years their relationship began to change. Their interactions did as well. He would grow jealous if she talked to the other boys at school and always sought her attention when playing in the schoolyard. He would tug on one of her braids and she would chase after him until her father caught her one day when he'd come to pick her up. She was twelve at the time, budding into a young lady. He’d told her quite sternly that ladies didn’t chase after boys, it wasn’t proper. After that they kept their chasing games solely for the field they played in behind his house. He still pushed her in the swing, only it was different when he touched her. She was more than willing to admit that she had already loved Robb then.

By sixteen, Margaery knew well she was completely in love with him. She often dreamed she could be Juliet and he would be Romeo, only instead of dying in the end, they would simply run off, get married, and have their happily ever after. Only, war has a way of changing things.

She still remembered the day before he left as if it were yesterday. They were in their spot and she was trying so hard not to cry. They’d kissed until she finally asked him to make love to her. She didn’t want anything to happen without knowing what his touch felt like or what it meant to belong to him in every way. She loved him and the thought that he could die terrified her to the point she felt her heart was shattering within her chest.

The day he returned, though, was a whirlwind around town. He and Jon both came home war heroes. She’d kept back and let him receive his reward from the town, watching with pride as he stood on the platform, his hat tucked beneath his arm. His posture was better, his body leaner and broader than she’d remembered. When he finally locked eyes with her, she could see the same love and burning lust within them that coursed through her.

She took her father’s car and drove to the mountain that night. She’d packed a blanket and used a stick to tap on his window, then waited for him out back. He came down and swept her into a hug that stole the very breath from her lungs. He had survived a war and was in her arms again, where he belonged. He spent that night making love to her, knowing her body in every way a man could know a woman. By the time dawn began breaking over the mountain, she was sweaty and exhausted, her body filled with a lovely ache that she clung to. He’d escorted her back to the car and confessed that he loved her, and only her. She had kissed him goodbye that morning, not caring that Jon could see them from his place on the porch. It was the first time anyone other than the two of them knew of their relationship and she decided then and there she would never hide her love for him again.

She found her way to him often, spending her days on the mountain, sneaking away with him when he needed a break from the fields. Robb Stark knew every part of her body, knew how to make her moan, sigh, even scream if he wished all while they whispered their love to one another.

But then Margaery learned her father had arranged for her to spend time with Joffrey Lannister in hopes of making a good match for her. She wanted no part of it and made her thoughts quite clear on the matter in a shameful fit of anger.

She went to Robb that night, nearly beside herself she was so distraught. She’d barely gotten the words out of her mouth before he’d asked her to run away with him and get married. She’d wanted to. Oh, how her heart had screamed at her not to be foolish and squander his love on the trivial material comforts her family or Joffrey could provide. But fear had also clutched her heart like a vice. She had walked away, expecting him to come after her, to grab her, shake her, make her realize that he was the only thing she needed and damn everything else.

But he didn’t, and she’d driven home, tears blurring her vision and streaming down her face. She’d carried on with the engagement despite her broken heart, and it had nearly killed her. She lost weight, stopped smiling, shrank within herself and away from the people she loved.

Her first panic attack hit the morning of the wedding. Her grandmother had come in, given her a shot of brandy, and an order to get ahold of herself. She was a Tyrell, a strong and capable woman, and she would be provided for the rest of her life. After another shot she’d nodded, her heart shattering into a thousand shards. Robb hadn’t come to take her away from her nightmare, and he never would.

Her wedding night was spent in silent torment. Having to lie beneath another man, who wasn't Robb, tore at her very soul. Joffrey was inexperienced and pathetic, uncaring of her enjoyment. Took her winces of pain as those of a virgin and not for the true pain they were. Blessedly he was done within a few short minutes, leaving her entire body trembling, assuming that meant she’d enjoyed it. She’d rolled over and cried herself into a fitful sleep, only to wake and cry some more. She had trapped herself in a nightmare with no hope of escape.

Yet here she was, standing in their spot with Robb, the spot that held so many memories her heart soared just being there. The swing still hung from the branch overhead. She traced over the recently replaced rope and seat. “This is all new.”

He didn’t say anything and she turned to see him glaring at the ground, his hands flexing at his sides. “I’ve been fightin’ with myself to just be happy you’re back. But today, I feel like I hit a tippin’ point and you and I have to get some of this between us squared away,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

She took a deep breath and nodded, fear rolling through her like a storm on a summer’s day. Sudden and dangerous. “Alright,” she whispered.

He shook his head and looked up at her. The pain and anger that was blazing from his crystal blue eyes, bright as the sun, may as well have been a slap across her face. She had known he was hurt, but nothing prepared her for what she saw. _How had he hidden it from her so well?_  “You left me. I asked you to elope, and you _left_ me,” he hissed, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he clenched it.

“I know.” She hung her head, her despair running deep as a river.

Robb let out a harsh sigh, almost a growl, pacing in front of her, his hands fisted where they were pressed against his forehead.

Seeing him so, because of her... It cut her heart to shreds. But she didn’t know how to explain to him what she’d felt back then. Not without hurting him more. She feared he’d be so disgusted by the truth he’d never want to see her again. She’d been so selfish it disgusted her, but her family had been so convincing. That she could be happy with Joffrey, that love and lust would fade, but could also be built between strangers.

How wrong they’d been, and her a fool to listen to them.

While she was at a loss on how to give her fears a voice, she knew for the sake of whatever love was between them, she had to figure out how.

Robb finally stopped his pacing, turning towards her, an angry flush coloring his face. “ _That’s it?_ ” he snapped. “That’s all the explanation I get after years of lovin’ one another? Our love survived a fuckin’ war! But...you didn’t love me enough when a rich carrot was dangled in front of you. And all I get is an _'I know_ ’?”

“I love you!” she cried. “It’s that simple for me.”

“ _Simple_ ? You mean _too_ simple. _Too_ small. _Too_ poor,” he spat. She looked away, shame washing over her. He’d always been able to read her inner thoughts even when she didn’t say them out loud. “Did you come here for a reprieve or are you plannin’ on stayin’?”

She snapped her head up to look at him, a deep scowl on her face. “I intend to stay.”

“ _Do_ you?”

She wiped a hand over her face, leaving it covering her mouth to muffle her whimpers. “It would be easier on everyone if I went back...” He scoffed and shook his head. “but I can’t,” she sobbed, “I can’t go back. I don’t _want_ to go back. Yes, I married him. They forced me to, but also for very selfish reasons that I’m ashamed of. And you can be mad at me for those, I don't blame you, but I’m mad at you, too.” His eyes flashed with anger and she decided to go all in. They were going through hell, but they’d never make it out if they didn't keep going. She faced him head-on. “You didn’t fight for me, Robb. You let me leave...”

He took a step towards her, fury in his eyes. “You made it clear that you’d made your choice,” he growled.

“So did you,” she whispered. “I wanted you to come after me, to tell me all of my fears were silly. That we could do it together. But you didn’t. You holed up here on your mountain and you left me to think that you didn’t think or feel enough for me to talk me out of it!” she screamed at him, panting heavily. “You left me to marry a monster because of your wounded pride!”

“ _Wounded pride_ ?! Is that what you think?!” He took another step towards her. “You broke my heart, Margaery. Ripped it out and stomped on it! My pride had nothin’ to do with it,” he seethed. “You decided to marry a man you loathed because your life would be more _comfortable_ than if you’d married me. The war didn't come close to causin’ me as much pain as you did.”

She wiped her eyes, letting out a shuddering breath and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Are we wasting our time? Do you even want me back?” she asked finally.

“If you have to ask that question, I reckon we are _wastin’ our time_.”

“You’re such a stubborn ass!” she gritted through her teeth. “I’m standing here, telling you what I wanted, and you’re not listening!”

He flung his arms out. “You want me to fight for you! I hear you! Who do you want me to fight!? Joffrey? I’ll kill him. Your family? They wouldn’t have liked your choice but they wouldn’t have abandoned you, especially not your grandmother! Fight the world? Fuck the world!” Her back hit the tree. She’d been retreating with his every advancing step. “Fight you and your stupid choices? You already made those. Do I really need to talk you out of more?” His voice was low and dangerous, his face mere inches from hers. She wasn’t afraid of him. He wouldn’t hurt her, not ever.

“Robb Stark, I have loved you since before I even knew what love was. There has never been another man in this world that compares to you. But sometimes you are the most frustrating man I’ve ever met.” She shook her head as her hands came up to his chest, able to feel his racing heart through his shirt. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you. It was a foregone conclusion that I would marry you.”

“Only you didn’t. When I asked, you ran.”

She lowered her head and swiped at her tears again. “I did. I ran. And you let me.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked back at him. “We were both wrong. We assumed we knew how the other felt. That we had it all figured out when we didn’t know anything. I married Joffrey because I didn’t think I had another choice. You let me because you thought that’s what I wanted.”

He stepped back from her and sighed. “Isn’t it? Life with me will be hard, Margaery. There’s no hidden finery here. I have my brothers to take care of, a farm to try and make viable again, and we’re runnin’ moonshine all around the county. This is a hard life and a dangerous one if we’re gonna take on the Lannisters, which is what we’re doin’ by hidin’ and protectin’ you. And I’m not complainin’ about that.” He stopped and frowned. “You sure you wouldn’t rather run back to Joffrey than live in squalor?”

She shook her head. “I love you. I didn’t think that was enough before. I _know_ it is, now.” She licked at where the cut had been on her lip and lowered her head. “Is this what _you_ want?” She couldn’t meet his eyes and hear him say that she wasn’t worth it and would be better off going back to Joffrey, or that the pain she had caused had been so great he couldn’t recover. Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, when she spoke finally, “Knowing I hurt you and–”

His lips took hers, hard and full of need. There was no sweetness, none of the softness he’d shown her since she’d ran to him. Margaery relished it, her pain, and anger igniting into a wildfire within her blood. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed his body against hers. His rough hands, the ones she had so desperately missed on her skin, moved from her hips up her breasts, grasping and demanding. A loud moan escaped her as she began pushing his vest off his shoulders.

Oh, how she'd missed him, his touch, his need for her every bit as strong as hers for him. The whole world seemed to be righted when they were together like this. Robb pressed his hips closer and she gasped, feeling his hard length against her. He took the opportunity to lift her leg and she wrapped it around his hip, grinding where she needed him most.

Their moans and heavy breaths filled the air, Robb working hastily on the buttons of the dress she’d borrowed from Arya, then pulling down the straps of her slip. She gasped as her breasts were exposed to the mountain air, then he took a nipple into his mouth and her head banged back against the tree. All she felt was pleasure. The searing heat building within her at each pull of his clever mouth. She jerked on the front of his shirt, a button popping off and falling to the leaf covered floor. Needing to feel him, touch him, she pushed it over his shoulders. At her desperate whine, he removed his hands from her long enough to push it away and pull his undershirt over his head.

His hot skin met hers as she laced her fingers through his hair, his mouth seeking hers again. Rough, calloused hands slid beneath her dress and pulled at her bloomers. Dropping her leg from around his hip she wiggled until they fell down around her ankles, then kicked them off. His trousers went next, pushed down to his knees, followed by his shorts, their movements jerky and frantic.

Then his fingers were beneath her slip, searching and finding her swollen, achy and wet. He let out a groan, biting at her neck as he ran them through her folds, softly at first, just teasing. He knew how to please her, had been the first and only one to ever give her pleasure. The fumblings of Joffrey didn’t compare to the expert skill in which Robb handled her. Just the slide of his thumb against her dripping slit was proof enough that Robb, _her Robb_ , was the only man for her.

He hooked his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her against the tree. There was a blissful second where his eyes locked into hers and she could feel everything in his gaze: hurt, betrayal, forgiveness, lust, and love. She wanted him, all of him, forever with no questions as to where her loyalty and heart lie. He gave her a little nod before he seated himself inside her hard, causing her to cry out in relief. It had been so long. Too long.

She grasped his shoulders, and linked her ankles around him, holding him tighter. Every thrust both soothed and tormented her. How could she have thought she could ever go without this or him for the rest of her life? He was hers and she was his. She brought his mouth to hers, taking him in a kiss as hard and demanding as his cock inside her. He gave a vicious thrust and stilled, pinning her to the tree. Her breath caught in her throat, her body pushing and straining to get him to move.

He broke the kiss and stared at her, such fire burning in his eyes it caused her to clench around him. “You’re mine,” he panted, as he pressed his forehead to hers.

She nodded, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Yours,” she whispered. “Forever.”

He kissed her, his mouth leaving her breathless as he thrust into her again, claiming her. She gave over to him, heart and soul, wanting nothing more. Ignoring the scrape of bark along her bare back, she relished in the feel of his body around hers. His arms, so strong, held her up as if she weighed nothing. The tickle of chest hair against her exposed breasts, the scratch of his beard against her neck as his hungry mouth licked, sucked and bit along the sensitive skin, all leaving her hanging over the edge. He shifted her weight, driving deep and she exploded around him unable to hold back a moment longer. As the waves washed through her she tightened around him, her body clinging to him, urging him to follow her. “I love you,” she gasped.

He buried his face against her throat, his breathing harsh and labored, his hips jerking in short hard bursts. He gave a strangled groan and spilled inside her.

Still panting and coming down from her own release she leaned her head against his, reality rushing in too fast. They’d never risked it, had always been careful. Whether their torrent of emotions had made them reckless, or a deep hidden need had risen to the surface, they’d just made a choice.

There was no chance of a child of Joffrey’s growing within her. She’d had her monthly since their wedding night. If any seed took root she knew it would be Robb’s. Where that had once terrified her, now she hoped for it. It would make everything more complicated, put them in more danger, but he was her past, present, and future. She would take whatever came their way.

He set her down on her feet and a shadow passed over his features, his eyes dropping, brow creased. She stroked her fingers over his fuzzy jaw to soothe him and pressed her lips to his, her hands against his bare chest. “Yours,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead and pulled her slip and dress back into place. She moved back into his arms, not ready to let him go just yet. “I need to get back to the house. _We_ need to get back to the house,” he mumbled and stepped back, righting his britches.

She nodded and reached down for her bloomers. Robb snatched them from her and tucked them into his pocket. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll give them back,” he muttered before he pulled his shirt back on, then his suspenders. “Eventually.”

Her heart easing at seeing his wicked smirk, she swatted at him playfully before taking his hand and walking back up the hill.

Arya was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, Gendry at the table with Jon. She gave them a nervous smile then ducked her head and went about putting water in a pot before placing it on the stove. Arya’s laughter sounded in the room. Margaery glanced over her shoulder at her and soon Jon and Gendry were smirking and snickering. It wasn’t until Robb stepped up beside her and removed a piece of bark from her hair that she understood. She flushed even though Robb wrapped an arm around her waist and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Let’s get the truck loaded up so you and Gendry can leave,” Robb said, shooting a look at his little sister.

She held up her hands in surrender. “Fine! I’m leaving!” she said and walked out of the house, Gendry and Jon following.

Robb lingered and leaned down to press a kiss against her lips. “Ignore her. You know how she is.”

She nodded. “I want my bloomers back.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not yet. Incentive for me to get done faster,” he said as he cupped her ass through her dress and gave a possessive squeeze.

She chuckled. “Then get to work.” She shoved at him playfully. “I’ll make supper.”

He placed one last kiss on her lips before he left. She turned back to the stove and smiled, hoping she could bring a new generation of Starks into the world.

*~*

“Rickon! Bran! Supper is ready,” Margaery called, placing the final bowl on the table then worked to make a plate for Robb and Jon. She set them both aside, placing dish towels over top. The heavy clomping of feet come from one of the bedrooms, followed by the clattering nails of a wolf. She chuckled to herself, thinking about Rickon and how he charged everywhere he went.

The little boy appeared, his hands still dripping wet from where he’d washed them. He had learned by now to not sit down at Margaery’s table without having clean hands. She laughed as she took one of the dish towels and dried each of his hands. “Don’t be in such a hurry that you forget the details, little one,” she said with a smile.

He smiled at her as he climbed into his seat and waited patiently for Bran. Shaggydog sat at his side, waiting for the scraps that Rickon thought no one knew he gave to the great beast.

She hardly remembered the Stark family without the rowdy little boy, finding his exuberance for everything something to be cherished.

Bran rolled himself into the room and took his place next to Rickon. She sat their glasses of milk in front of them then took her seat. Rickon immediately reached for a biscuit and bit into it.

“You’re going to eat more than those, so don’t fill up.”

“I won’,” he mumbled, his mouth full. She gave him a reproachful look. He swallowed the bite and looked down. “Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” She served Bran, then Rickon, making sure to cut up his meat before she handed over his plate. He started to use his fingers, but one look from her had him stopping and picking up his fork.

“How are you finding the books that Rickon’s teacher sent you, Bran?” she asked.

He nodded. “I like em. She even put a history book in the stack.” He took a bite of potatoes and swallowed. “It’s only coverin’ from Queen Elizabeth’s reign in England though.”

She knew from Robb how much Bran felt left out from life. How hard watching Rickon get to enjoy things he used to hurt him. He hated how people would stare and talk about him in town, so he never wanted to go when they asked him to. Jon and Robb had managed to work something out with Doc Samwell to get him to make house visits for Bran. She didn’t know exactly what the arrangement entailed, but he did come up once a week, and his brother had married their sister Sansa. She’d met him a handful of times, and he always seemed a jovial sort, very friendly, and was one of the few people that Jon seemed to enjoy being around.

She hated how isolated Bran felt and wished there was some way to fix it. But if the new school teacher was willing to provide him with books, possibly she could tutor him so he didn’t feel like he was missing something, that might be worth asking about. Especially if the woman was truly interested in Jon.

Margaery had nearly laughed at the almost serene smile that had been on Jon's face after visiting her once he heard about the issue with Ramsay. Robb had taken every opportunity to call him out on it to the point where Jon cursed at him and went to his room to sulk, she supposed. It was good to see a spark of happiness in him again.

“Perhaps, if you like that book, she has something that’s a little more current,” she said.

“I like medieval history. Knights and pirates, it’s all fascinatin’.”

She gave him a smile. “Perhaps she has some other books you might like. It couldn’t hurt to ask.” At that, she looked at Rickon. “And what about you, little man? How do you like school?”

Rickon nodded enthusiastically as he chewed the large bite of food in his mouth. She gave him a pointed look, telling him without words not to even _think_ about speaking yet. He wiped at his mouth and cleared his throat once he had swallowed it all. “I love it! Miss Dany is nice! I don’t like the test part but the rest of it’s fun. She even has Bran’s dragon sittin’ on her desk.”

She saw Bran give a little smile and she was thankful for it. She loved that she had the time with the boys. They deserved happiness, and she would do anything to see that it happened more often for them. “What is your favorite so far?” she asked Rickon.

“I like when she takes us outside and reads to us.”

The smile that had been on Bran’s face disappeared. She could do that for him. If she could get Robb and Jon to get him outside, she could take him to the field behind the house. She’d mention it to Robb. He was so protective of the boys, specifically Bran. She knew, though, that he only wanted his brothers to grow up healthy and happy. If he could see the benefits, he’d agree. She’d just work to persuade him.

She changed the subject for Bran’s sake. “What do you think you’ll carve next?”

“I’ve already started on somethin’,” he answered. “A rose. For you.”

She tilted her head, her heart lifting at his sweet words. “Bran, that’s so very sweet of you.”

He took a deep breath and put his fork down as he looked at her. “Rickon and I were talkin’. We want you to stick around. You’re a better cook than Arya, Jon, or Robb. It always smells better when you’re here. And you make Robb really happy.”

Rickon nodded. “Bran’s right, Miss Margaery. You’re the closest thing to a Ma I ever had! I don’t want ya to leave again.”

She took a shaky breath and reached her hands across the table to Rickon and then Bran. Both boys hesitated but eventually put their hands in hers. She squeezed both and gave them a smile. “Boys, I have no intention of leaving ever again. We’re a family. We’re going to _be_ a family.”

Bran released her hand first, but Rickon held on. “Really?” She nodded and he was out of his seat hugging her. She held him close for several moments and pressed a kiss to his unruly hair. “I’m so glad, Miss Margaery. And don’t worry, I won’t ever tell nobody you’re here.”

She gave him a bright smile and cupped his face in her hands when she released him. “Such pretty words, Rickon. You still have to eat your green beans.”

He wrinkled his nose and took his seat. He ate all of his biscuit and ham then pushed the beans around on his plate. Bran began talking to her about one of the stories in his reading book while she kept an eye on his little brother who put a green bean on his fork and tentatively stuck his tongue out to taste it only to make a face. It was comical watching his eyes shift around while he tried to figure out how to get rid of them without actually having to eat them.

Shaggydog shifted closer to the table. Rickon put several of the beans in his hand and dropped it to his side. “Rickon, if Shaggydog eats one of those beans, I’ll have to tell Robb and Jon.”

He huffed out a breath and held his hand higher away from the dog. Looking down at the beans he suddenly shoved them in his mouth, chewed quickly, then drank the rest of his milk to wash them down. He was breathing hard when he finished, the grimace on his face making her laugh. She had to turn away to hide it. Bran rolled his eyes then showed him how to take his potatoes and mix them with the beans. Rickon looked skeptical but tried it. His look of disgust didn’t fade completely, but it allowed him to eat all of his food without getting a whoopin’ for not doing as he was told.

Once they’d finished their supper, and Bran was settled for the night, she put Rickon in his pajamas. He handed her a book and she sat beside him on the bed as he curled against her side. In the middle of reading, he slipped his hand into hers and she looked down at him to see him staring up at her. “You’re really gonna to stay?” he whispered.

She nodded. “I promise.”

He frowned. “Those people that were here today. Those are the bad people? The ones who hurt your face?”

She nodded and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “They are. But your brothers, sister, and Uncle Gendry are helping me.”

“I want to help you, too.”

Margaery smiled down at him, doing her best not to cry. “You do help me, Rickon. You have no idea how much,” she whispered.

“I do?”

She nodded and hugged him to her. “You’re always so kind, and you listen when I tell you to do things, that helps. And today, when I was hiding, you sent Shaggydog to keep me company. I wasn’t so scared when he showed up.”

He looked at the foot of his bed where the wolf was curled at his feet. “I want you to stay forever. I don’t remember my Ma. But, I hear the other kids talkin’ ‘bout theirs. They do all the stuff for them that you do for me. I figure I don’t need one if I got you.”

She brushed her fingers along his cheek, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “I’ve got you, too. That’s important to me.” He held her hand a little tighter. “Now, close your eyes and go to sleep. You’ve got school in the morning and you know how Robb gets if you’re dragging your feet.”

He huffed a bit but did as he was told. She turned off the lamp and left the room, nearly colliding with Robb as she came out. She put a hand on his chest and pushed him back toward his room and closed the door behind them. She hugged him, no longer able to fight the tears she’d held at bay with Rickon. Robb brushed his hands over her hair and pressed his cheek against her head, swaying with her gently.

She finally regained herself and pulled back from him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know I hurt you. But I hurt them, too. And...”

He nodded. “I know. I heard most of it,” he said softly, cupping her face in his hands. “Youngins have a way of makin’ you feel worse about the choices you make, even if that ain’t their intention.”

“I don’t want him or _you_ to be afraid that I’m going to leave again. I’m with you, Robb. I’m where I want to be, finally. It took the biggest mistake of my life for me to realize it, and I want you to know that I'm aware of how much I hurt you and this family, too. But I mean to mend all of that hurt, no matter how long it takes." She pulled his shirt off of him and tossed it to the floor, then brought his lips to hers. “I love you. I love this family. I want both, forever.”

He cupped her face in his hands, bringing their mouths together in a heated kiss. Their clothes were dropped to the floor, piece by piece, and they sank to the mattress. He laid kisses along her neck and breasts as her hands rushed to touch as much of him as she could, thrilling at the movement of his muscles under his smooth skin. He rolled to his back, bringing her with him, settling her hips over his. She gasped when he cupped her breast in his hand and rolled a nipple between his fingers.

He covered her mouth with his other hand. “Shhh, you have to be quiet,” he whispered with a smile.

She pursed her lips in a pout, knowing how much he liked to hear her when they made love. It’s one of the reasons they kept their trysts out of doors so often. Except in winter. The hayloft had been their refuge during those cold nights. The house was too risky, even if they did sleep in his room.

He moved his hand and she decided a better way of staying quiet was kissing him. She pressed her mouth against his as she rubbed her wet center against his hard length. She moaned into his mouth and his lips turned up into a smile against her, then he was laughing. She lifted her head, eyebrows raised in question.

Still smiling he shook his head and brought her down for another kiss. “You couldn’t be quiet if your life depended on it,” he joked.

She wrinkled her nose at him and nipped at his bottom lip. “Don’t laugh at me while I’m on top of you naked,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

Robb gripped her flanks and pulled her over him, pressing her down hard on his cock, splitting her slick folds open, the blunt smooth head of him sliding against her knot of nerves, sending an aching bolt of pleasure through her. She buried her face in his neck as she reached between them and gripped him in her hand, stroking him firmly, torturing him as he was her.

A look of ecstasy washed over his face, his eyes closing and his neck straining as he pressed his head back into his pillow. Her mouth twisted into a smirk, enjoying the control. Leaning down she placed open-mouthed kisses along the pulse of his throat, rubbing him through her folds, then sank back letting him fill her. She sat up, her eyes rolling back at the fullness he created within her. Resting her hands on his chest she began rolling her hips against his, loving the slow gentle slide of him inside her.

His wonderful hands danced over her skin, tracing patterns over her flesh, then gripping her hips, urging her to speed up. She was taking her time, though, needing to savor every movement, every touch, and the darkness that had overtaken his eyes as he filled her over and over again.

She loved him so completely that it caused her vision to swim as tears filled her eyes. “Robb,” she whispered and he sat up and brought her mouth to his. His arms wound around her, touching her so reverently he must have thought she would break. Her heart nearly weeping from his gentleness, she knew she would do everything in her power, for the rest of their lives, to make sure he knew he was her everything and always would be.

He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down her throat and to her breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth he cupped the other breast, his fingers twisting and pulling at the aching bud.

Her head dropped back, unable to watch him without falling into the abyss. His soft touch, the feel of him inside her, pushed her closer and closer to the very edge. Her hips sped up of their own accord, her body done with her unhurried pace. She shivered above him, so caught up in the way he knew how to touch and kiss her that when his thumb pressed against the tiny bundle of nerves hidden within her folds, she nearly cried out, remembering at the last moment she had to be quiet. Instead, she let a soft whimper escape. His answering growl sounded against her breast.

As his fingers played her as expertly as a virtuoso at a piano, the fire built higher and higher. Knowing she would need his kiss to keep from crying out his name, she waited until it reached a fever pitch, pulled him away from her breast and crashed her mouth onto his. She shook in his arms as she tumbled over the edge, her fingers in his hair tightening, her sex clenching around his still thrusting cock. Her body nearly limp in his arms.

She clung to him with weak limbs as he found his release inside her once more. He hadn’t said anything to her about what had happened earlier in the day, but she took this moment as a sign that he had come to the same conclusion she had. They both wanted this, meant it to be forever, and would accept the consequences as they came.

She rested her head against his, neither moving for several minutes, flushed skin against skin, healing one breath at a time. Contentment washed through her like waves upon a shore as Robb finally laid them back on the bed and she moved to the side, propping her bare thigh over his and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Robb. More than even I knew.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “I knew,” he whispered back. “That’s why it hurt so much. But you’re right. I didn’t fight for you and I should have. Part of me, though, thought that you deserved to have all that stuff, a good life with all those trappin’s. I couldn’t give it to you before, and I can’t give it to you now.”

She leaned up on her elbow. “I have you. I have your family. That’s enough for me,” she said, placing a kiss on his jaw. “I was a fool to think that any of that other stuff mattered.”

“It does matter,” he whispered. “You ain’t ever been hungry or cold. We’ve suffered both. It’s romantic to think that all we need is each other, and I believe that, but I don’t want you regrettin’ your decision to be with me.”

She traced over his jaw with her thumb. “I had all those trappings all my life, for the past month. I've never been unhappier. The decision I regret is running away from you. I want you, Robb. I want your family. And I want a family of our own,” she whispered as she leaned her head against his. “I’ll do whatever I can to make you and the boys as happy as I can for the rest of my life, Robb. Once I’m rid of the Lannisters I mean for us to never have to hide our love again.”

He nodded and hugged her tighter to his side. “I love you, Margaery. Always.”

She rested her head on his shoulder as her fingers ran through the hair on his chest. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you enjoyed this chapter. Drop us a line and let us know what you think. Robb and Margaery are two stupid fools in love that both made mistakes. Now, they're looking to fix them. 
> 
> Next chapter will be Arya/Gendry. As of now, their chapters will be combined as they're always together and you'll get to see a host of characters as they make their deliveries. We hope you like them as much as we do!


	5. You've Found The One You Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry make deliveries to a host of people. Gendry tries to silence some of Arya's insecurities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Thank you all for your continued support of this fic. We are so blessed to have such a dedicated group of supporters and we appreciate all of you. If you comment, we do our best to respond to each one. 
> 
> The gorgeous mood board was made by justwanderingneverlost because she's amazing.
> 
> HUGE thanks to meisie for betaing this chapter/fic for us. She does such a great job. 
> 
> To our lovely tarts, you're all amazing and we love you.

 

_We’re all searching,_  
_That's all I know,_  
_For someone to keep us warm,_  
_When the rain soaks through our clothes._  
  
_But if you find a hand to hold_

_when the night comes,_  
_To be there when you’re old and your frightened,_  
_If you find someone who loves you_

_with the lights on,_  
_You’ve found the one you love._  
  
_So hold it near,_  
_Cos love it comes so quickly and then it goes,_  
_And be careful my dear,_  
_Cos the very thing that makes you,_  
_Could be the thing that breaks you,_  
_You know._  
  
_If you find someone who doesn’t undermine you,_  
_If you find someone who doesn’t_

_drag behind you,_  
_If you find someone that loves you just like I do,_  
_You’ve found the one you love._

__

_The One You Love_  
_Passenger_ **  
**

**GENDRY**

 

“Ya know, you should probably ease up on Robb,” Gendry started as they drove down the dark, dirt road. He kept one hand on the wheel, the other gripped her thigh. She didn’t look up from the pad as she worked out their route for the night. She always had it done by the time they’d reached the bottom of the mountain. She remained silent, however, and he couldn't help but sigh. “You ignoring me?”

 

She nodded. “I’m tryin’. But you keep talkin’.”

 

He released her to shift gears, but his hand found its way back to her supple skin. “Arya...”

 

“I’m not gonna stop and you can’t make me. Half the fun is seein’ if I can get em all flustered.”

 

“But why is that fun?”

 

He felt her look at him then, but her face was dark, hidden by shadows. “You have to ask that when you help me tease em sometimes?”

 

He rolled his eyes. “I’m ain’t saying to stop completely, none of them want that. But you saw his face when we were standing against the Lannisters and you know it could’ve gone bad at any moment.” His thumb gently rubbed against her skin, hoping to make her see reason. “And as soon as their cars were out of sight he rushed to her. As scared as I was, I can’t imagine how terrified the two of them were.”

 

She was quiet for a few seconds then made a noise he couldn't decipher over the engine running. “You were scared?”

 

“Weren’t you?” he asked incredulously.

 

She shrugged, then looped her hand around his bare bicep. “I wasn't. Joffrey’s all talk and they backed down as soon as Robb presented a real threat.”

 

Gendry looked over at her, barely able to make her out in the moonlight: his beautiful wolf girl. She was much wilder than she appeared, her youthful face hid how dangerous she was. He knew in her garter was a slingblade tucked away and beneath her hat a small pistol, ready at a moment’s notice. She could play the innocent act when it suited her, better than any he’d seen. She was a strange mixture of danger and softness, worn leather and tattered lace. He adored her.

 

He’d been wary of becoming involved with her, at first. He didn’t think Jon would take to it too well, especially since he still tended to treat her more like a little girl instead of the grown woman she was. But Arya had had other plans.

 

She’d insulted him, and often. But then he noticed her lingering when he’d work on his truck in the heat of summer, his shirt off to alleviate some of his discomfort. She had started to bring him little trinkets she found in the woods or in town that he might like. She brought him food she made, once, and while he ate it, he’d known he would have to find excuses not to do so in the future. She was a horrible cook. Some people would say it was a major flaw of a wife to be a bad cook. He’d tell em to fuck off.

 

They reached the bottom of the mountain and she told him to go towards town. First stop of the night was Tyrion Lannister. Gendry found it nearly impossible to hate the man, though he tried. He and Jon we're almost certain the Lannisters had something to do with their fathers’ deaths, though they didn't have a lick of proof. Tyrion was such a character that Gendry would slip up, then catch himself. They’d be getting along swimmingly, then he’d suddenly remember he was a Lannister and would cut their time short and usher Arya and Nymeria back to the truck. But he always promised himself that he’d at least be pleasant and give Tyrion a chance.

 

As they pulled up to a large home covered in ivy but lit well from inside, Arya faced him. “Be nice,” she warned. “We need him as a customer cause he pays well and extra for deliverin’ to him first.”

 

He nodded. “I will.”

 

Gendry pulled around the familiar path to the back of the house and the small man was sat on a bench under his yard light, with a book open in his hand and a glass of something swirling in the other. His book snapped closed as all three climbed out. Nymeria went to him immediately, accepting the bits of bacon and ham he offered her.

 

“And how are you two this fine evening?” he asked jovially.

 

Gendry began offloading the two crates as Arya greeted Tyrion. “We’re fine, you?”

 

“Well enough. And everyone else at Winter’s Peak? Heard you had a run in with my idiot nephew.”

 

“He learned his place,” Gendry said with a smirk.

 

“He may be slow, but he’s not stupid. He’ll come back better prepared,” Tyrion warned. His green eyes shifted between him and Arya. “But _everyone_ is well?”

 

He eyed Tyrion warily and let out a heavy sigh. “Everyone is fine and where they’re finally supposed to be.”

 

Tyrion reached down and pulled a jar from the crate, opened it and sniffed. He was smiling when he looked up at the two of them. “I’ll drink to that,” he said before he took a swig and screwed the lid back on. “Your brothers truly have a gift.”

 

Arya crossed his name off the list and looked at him, her hand held out and an eyebrow raised. “Payment, please.”

 

His heavy brow twisted up. “Usually you’re the one that’s tight-lipped and unresponsive,” he said looking at Gendry. “Not you,” he muttered, turning to Arya. He removed a wad of cash and handed it over to her. “You should all be careful. Lannisters don’t usually take well to rejection, specifically Joffrey and my father. Have a good plan and stick to it.”

 

“Why you willing to say anything to help _us_ against them?” Gendry asked finally.

 

“You grew up as a bastard, not in this town, but one nearby. I’m a dwarf. How do you think society, as well as my father, views me?”

 

Arya folded her arms over her chest. “Not all people view you like that.”

 

He gave her a slight smile. “You may be the lone exception to that rule, my dear. Sure you won’t stay and have a drink with me?”

 

Gendry shook his head. “We have a lot more orders to get through all over the county.”

 

Tyrion shook his finger at him. “One day, young Gendry, I will have you inside to enjoy my hospitality.”

 

Arya smiled at him. “Just not tonight. We’ll see you in a few days.”

 

“Friday is best. And I could use an extra two cases. I’m hosting a party.”

 

Gendry watched over her shoulder as she scribbled out: _Friday, Tyrion. Four cases._ He turned and opened the door for her and she climbed in, moving to the middle as Nymeria joined her on the seat once more. He closed the door behind them and walked around the side of the truck, tying down the burlap once more then climbing in himself. Arya waved at Tyrion as he sped off down the drive then back onto the main road.

 

Arya looped her arm through his. “You should give him a chance,” she said softly.

 

He huffed. “He’s a Lannister.”

 

She took a deep breath and nodded. “He is. But Tyrion isn’t like them, and you know it. You wish he was. And look, if anyone understands, it’s me. I believe Tywin was involved in the murders of our fathers too. There’s no reason they would’ve killed one another. None,” she finished. “But Tyrion isn’t like Tywin. He values people and seems to like my family, and you're part of my family.”

 

He smiled over at her, jumping on the change of subject. “Remember the first time you told me that you could be my family?”

 

She nodded with a smirk. “You were shocked. Like the thought had never occurred to you.”

 

“Cause it hadn’t. I never thought you could want me the way I wanted you.”

 

She placed a kiss on his bare shoulder. “You were very wrong.”

 

He shrugged, giving her a wink. “You tell me I’m wrong probably twenty times a day, so what else is new?”

 

Arya rolled her eyes then looked at her list and sighed. “Tormund and then Davos, so into town we go.”

 

Gendry nodded. “Be on the lookout for Ramsay and his goons. He ain't gonna let what happened with Miss Storm go so easily and he’ll blame you and me for interferin’.”

 

“Oh, I do hope he tries to do somethin’. I’ve been yearnin’ to carve up his face,” she snarled.

 

He shook his head. “No, we gotta stay as inconspicuous as possible. Especially if we’re makin’ deliveries to the local Sheriff.”

 

“Davos would never do anythin’ to us. For one, he likes you too much and two, he likes Jon too much.”

 

Gendry went quiet for a minute, thinking of his friend and brother in law. He’d never known a better man but still hadn't figured him out no matter how much he thought on it. “For someone that most of the town seems to admire, Jon has a rather low opinion of himself,” he sighed.

 

Arya laid her hand on his shoulder. “It’s all the years growin’ up under the shadow of his ma bein’ so young when she got pregnant and his pa ditching him.”

 

“You ask Jon and the only Pa he ever needed was yours.”

 

Arya smiled sadly. “I know, don’t change the fact that his real one wanted nothin’ to do with him though. Least Robert made sure you was taken care of, came to see ya some. Pa did everythin’ he could to make up for Jon’s. He was a good man. Such a clear sense of honor. You remind me of him in that sense. Just like Jon.”

  
“Don’t get weepy on me. It ruins the allure if you look like you been cryin’.”

 

She poked him in the ribs with her bony elbow. “Shut up.”

 

He chuckled as he pulled up behind the back of Tormund’s store and found the burly ginger man seated on a crate, a cigar hanging from his mouth. He stood as the truck pulled to a stop and grabbed his wood case from the back then handed the money over to Arya through the window after he’d set it down.

 

“‘Fore you two speed away, I have a proposition for you,” Tormund said. Arya leaned across Gendry's lap so she could hear. “Seems to me that we’re in a position to help each other. I’d like to work out an exchange with you lot.”

 

“What sort of exchange?” Gendry asked. The shop owner looked like he should be part of the hill tribes and not the owner of the General Store. But Tormund had a sharp business sense and knew well how to negotiate.

 

“You need jars to put this shine in and I got plenty a’ those. I’d like to stop paying you cash for it. I’m willin’ to provide you with the jars as long as you keep me stocked.”

 

Arya opened her mouth to respond and Gendry could tell by the look on her face that she was going to accept. However, his hand on her thigh stopped her. She looked at him, miffed. “Let us talk it over with Jon and Robb,” he told Tormund. “It’s a family business, after all.”

 

Tormund nodded. “That’s fair. I’ll need to know how many jars you need ahead a’ time, but you let those boys know it’s a good trade.”

 

Arya nodded. “I’ll write it down, Tormund, and we’ll talk to em about it soon.”

 

“Alright then, you two be safe. Saw Roose Bolton, that boy a’ his, and some a’ his cunts out on the street tonight.”

 

Gendry nodded. “We’ll be careful.”

 

Tormund hit the side of the truck and they took off down the alley to the back door of the Sheriff’s office. Gendry got out and Arya let Nymeria out as she followed. She gave the door three rapid knocks followed by two shorter. The door opened a few minutes later and the smiling grizzled face of Sheriff Davos greeted them. Gendry smiled back, holding two of his three cases. He set them inside the door and went back to the truck for the rest.

 

“What’s this I hear about a dust-up at your place this afternoon?” Davos asked.

 

Arya waved it off, but Gendry knew Davos needed to know that Joffrey came and threatened them. “Joffrey believes we’re hidin’ Margaery. He came to take her back.”

 

“And _are_ you hiding Margaery?”

 

“No,” Arya answered quickly. “She broke Robb’s heart when she married that snake.”

 

Davos looked at Gendry and he felt like he was being weighed and measured. He felt guilty for lying to the man who had been like a father to him. But Davos seemed to accept her answer and reached into his pocket for the cash. “Best you lot not get involved in that. I don’t need to tell you about the Lannisters,” he said, softly.

 

Gendry gave him a solemn nod. “No, I’m afraid I know too much about them already. We gotta get going. Pace yourself, Sheriff,” he told him with a smirk as they all loaded up into the truck once more.

 

“Will do, my boy. If you two need anythin’ you let me know.”

 

Gendry gave him a wave and they took off again.  

 

“Next is Sandor, then _your favorite_ , Ros,” Arya sneered.

 

He rolled his eyes. He’d never understand how Arya could think he was interested in anyone other than her. The jealousy she displayed about that woman didn’t make any sense to him. She ran the brothel on the outskirts of the county. He ignored her, mostly. It usually made Arya more aggressive in bed after having dealt with her, though. Like she was out to prove a point that he was hers. As if there was any doubt. There wasn’t in his mind.

 

“Arya, for the millionth time, Ros doesn’t hold my interest at all. No one compares to you. Tell me you know that.”

 

*~*

**ARYA**

She knew it. It was just hard to convince her heart of it, sometimes. The thought that he could be turned from her to someone else, someone prettier, knew more, was built more like a woman, terrified her. Since the day she’d met Gendry, it had been a consuming thought in her head. She wanted him. She’d been a girl who didn’t feel like she would ever want or need a man. Watching her father mourn their mother, Robb pine for Margaery, and Jon suffer from the loss of Ygritte had all but told her that love was not something she wanted.

Instead, she learned the heart doesn't always listen to the mind.

Gendry had shown up on their doorstep a few short weeks after Jon had returned from the war and her brother had smiled for the first time since seeing them all again. Having her brother happy again caused her defenses slipped. She was able to look past the unknown and see this new face without blinders. She’d been struck by how handsome he was. His blue eyes sparkled despite the horrors he’d seen during the war.

Jon had quickly drawn him into their family. Gendry had been more than grateful but insisted he not intrude into their home, instead cleaning out a stall in the barn where he was able to work on his truck. Having access to the vehicle was a boon for the Starks. With it, they could haul what supplies they could afford up and down the mountain. Gendry also helped in the fields, never complaining in the least about the work. He was happy to have a place to lay his head, friends to work alongside, and not be alone in the world anymore.

Arya grew attached all too quickly, caring far too much for the man that had come into their lives and stolen her heart with his affable manner, ready smile, and his beautiful blue eyes.

She hadn’t known what to do with all those new feelings, though. She took a ribbing from Robb, about her crush on him. But had no idea what he was talking about. It wasn’t a crush. It was consuming. Still was _. He_ was her every thought, then and now.

Gendry hadn’t wanted to pursue her. In fact, he’d rebuffed her, afraid Jon would kill him if he made any advances towards her. But Arya had always been a woman who went after what she wanted. And she’d wanted Gendry to love her the way her father had loved her mother. As much as it had pained her to watch her pa mourn, she realized that only meant what they’d felt for one another had been real. She wanted, _needed_ that with Gendry.

  
Arya, naturally, had been the one to kiss him first. And she hadn’t allowed him to walk away from her and leave her broken hearted either. She’d confessed she wanted to be with him, and only him. She wanted him to love her the way she loved him. The conflict Gendry felt had been written so clear across his face. He was sure Jon would hate him, but quickly gave up trying to deny how he felt about her. After only a few weeks of hiding their love, Arya had enough. She claimed she’d talk to her brothers, get their permission, but that’d been a lie. She thought it would be easier if they simply showed up married, then there’d be nothing they could do about it.

She hadn’t counted on Gendry being so angry about her ruse. Jon thought his friend had betrayed him, done to his little sister what his own father had done to his mother. He was livid. Fearing Jon might truly kill him, she'd confessed, and it was only then had her brother had relented. But her love had not. Gendry's anger had been almost tangible as he’d paced the barn, avoiding her for hours. She felt terrible that their first official day as husband and wife was spent with him so angry at her he wouldn’t even look at her. She finally got him to, promising she’d never keep anything from him ever again. And she’d kept her word.

When they’d started up the moonshine business, it’d been worked out amongst the four of them that Arya and Gendry would run it down the mountain. For once her youthful appearance worked in her favor. No one would suspect her of running shine. Gendry would be her muscle, and Nymeria a distraction for anyone trying to get the jump on them.

With their first profits, they’d bought Bran’s medicine, got the doc to agree to visits up the mountain to check on him, and at Jon’s insistence, materials to work on a house for the newlyweds. They worked on it as often as possible, getting the kitchen and bathroom up and running first. Jon had moved their bed himself. He was much nicer to Gendry once they were out of the house. She supposed she could have taken it easier on her brother when it came to having to listen to them every night, but keeping quiet once Gendry's hands were on her was impossible, and she had always loved annoying Jon.

Now, though, almost five years married to Gendry, she still sometimes wondered why he was with her. She wasn’t as pretty as the other girls that eyed him in town. She wasn’t the type of girl that knew the right thing to say or do to save his ego. She’d never be that girl. And women like Ros made her feel inferior, even if she _knew_ he had no interest in anyone else. It would always be a sticking point with her. It confused her as much as it made her angry.

They pulled down the dirt road leading to Sandor Clegane’s house. The man that others called the Hound was a gruff sort of person who pulled no punches to spare anyone’s feelings. Arya liked that about him. She hadn't at first. Gendry still didn’t care for him and how familiar he acted with Arya. They found him seated on his porch, a large knife in his hand as he sharpened it. He didn’t even look up when Arya opened the door and Nymeria jumped out as Gendry went around the back of the truck.

“Little wolf,” he said, his voice gravely and his face cloaked in shadow.

“Hound,” she responded and crossed his name off the list. Gendry placed the case on his porch and Arya stepped up to accept his payment.

“What’s this I hear about that Bolton cunt giving you a problem?” he grunted.

“It wasn’t us, really. Ramsay was hasslin’ the new school teacher. Gendry stopped him.”

Sandor sniffed. “Your knight in shinin’ armor.”

“Somethin’ like that,” Arya said with a smirk at her husband.

“Y’all ain’t afraid of that comin’ back at ya?”

Gendry shook his head. “Ramsay is all talk unless it’s against a woman. And I’d have to be dead before he gets anywhere near my wife. Not to mention Nymeria here,” he said ruffling the wolf’s thick fur.

Sandor growled a bit and looked at Arya. “You get any problems outta him again, you let me know.”

Arya scoffed. “And what’re you gonna do?” she asked, holding her hand out for their money.

“Best you not know what sort of damage I’d do to him and his cunt father.”

“She’s a lady,” Gendry warned.

Sandor rolled his eyes and Arya put a placating hand on Gendry’s arm. Sandor didn’t bother her. She adored her husband's want to protect her though, not that she needed protection. He still never failed to try.

“Get Nymeria in the truck,” she told him, holding her hand out to Sandor. He finally placed a rolled up wad of cash into her hand. She counted it in front of him and gave him a nod before getting into the truck on Gendry’s side. Nymeria had taken her customary seat beside the door. The wolf knew enough of their regulars that she didn’t seem the least bit edgy with any of them. They’d never had to use her once in their deliveries, but it did make them both feel better to have her around.

Sandor walked to Gendry’s open window and heaved a sigh. “I’m serious ‘bout Ramsay and that idiot father of his. If they hassle you, you let me know. I’d love to take em down a peg or two.”

Gendry tilted his head. “An’ why is that?”

“I knew your pa’s, they never done me wrong and wouldn’t a' stood by and let the likes of Bolton get away with what he does, 'specially to their own youngin’s. ‘Sides, anyone that preys on defenseless women deserves it,” Sandor growled.

Arya nodded and looped her arm through Gendry’s. “Anyone who messes with me messes with Gendry and Nymeria. And if that doesn’t keep em away, they’ll eventually get Jon and Robb, too. No one in this town is that stupid.”

The Hound shook his head and pointed a finger at her. “You’re wrong, girl. There are plenty a’ men in this _town_ that stupid. Take care a’ yourselves.”

Gendry pulled away and they went silent. She stroked her fingers gently over his arm as he shifted gears. He didn't glance or smile at her as usual. She heaved a sigh and looked at his face of concentration as he swung back onto the main road, heading towards the brothel on the other side of town. She nearly growled just thinking of the overly flirtatious woman that eyed Gendry like a piece of meat. _She_ was the only woman allowed to look at him in such a way.

“I forget, sometimes, how fast word can spread through this town,” Gendry's voice interrupted her thoughts, taking her back to their conversation with Sandor.

“You mean the stuff with Ramsay?”

  
“That...even to some extent what happened up at the house today. The Lannisters had to go back to town and tell people about it for it to get around like it has.” He looked at her, eyes narrowed. “Why would they be so quick to admit they were shown the door without gettin’ what they came for?”

Arya heaved a sigh. “Probably tryin’ to get the _good_ people on their side and convince the rest that we’re a bunch a’ heathens livin’ up on the mountain. If they can convince them that we got Margaery against her will, that might spark some sort of outrage and eventually get her back.”

Gendry gripped her thigh in his hand. “I’ll put a bullet in him before I’d let her go back to that. Even if Robb suddenly went to hemming and hawing. No man should ever put his hands on a woman that way. It just ain’t right.”

She smiled up at him. “You are my knight.”

  
“Don’t make fun of me,” he huffed.

She chuckled and shook her head. “I ain't makin’ fun, I swear. I love that you care about someone you don’t really know. It just shows me more, every day, that you’re one a’ the good ones.”

“Too many of the bad ones have too much power,” he remarked and she placed a kiss to his shoulder.

They took the rest of the ride in silence. When they pulled up to the old house they found it the same as always, the front yard full of cars and a few of the girls sitting on the porch. Arya grabbed Gendry's arm and he looked at her, his brow creased tight. “What?”

“You ain't gotta get out of the truck,” she reminded him.

In the faint glow coming from the house's porch lights, she saw him roll his eyes. “For the millionth time, I don’t give a shit about them, Arya, and not a one in that house is worth losin’ you for. You hear me?” he said, equal parts concern and exasperation in his voice.

She sighed, hating herself for upsetting him. “I hear you,” she whispered. He pressed a kiss to her nose then opened his door. She let Nymeria out and followed the wolf down from the truck.

The catcalling started the second Gendry's boot hit the ground. He tipped his hat at them as he unpacked three cases of the _Bite_ and sat them on the porch. A girl with a short black bob, leaned against the railing, putting her bosom on display for him, but he kept his eyes on the cases as he counted out the jars in each. The screen door creaked open and slammed shut, drawing everyone's attention.

Ros sauntered across the wood planks and leaned a hip against the railing. “Well, if it isn’t my _favorite_ delivery man,” she drawled prettily.

  
“I’m sure you say that to a lot of men,” Arya remarked, holding out her hand.

Ros sniffed and gave her a withering stare. “And look, you brought your bitches with you.” She reached inside her cotton slip, removing the money and walked down the steps towards Gendry. Standing a breath away from him she slowly slipped the bills beneath his suspenders. Arya took a step toward them, her fingers twitching to reach for the blade at her thigh. “You should teach her some manners,” Ros said acidly.

Gendry glanced at Arya and then back at Ros. “She’s behaving herself rather well, if you ask me. She ain’t cut you for touching what’s hers.”

Ros looked over her shoulder at her, a skeptic brow raised. Arya’s hackles went up, but Gendry knew her all too well and realized her testy temper was moments from showing itself. He left Ros staring after him and walked back to the truck and held the door open for his wife. She gave him a grateful smile and crossed to him to take the money from where Ros had placed it and counted it out. “Pleasure doin’ business with you, Ros,” Arya drawled, placing a kiss on Gendry’s cheek. She got in the truck, Nymeria jumping in after her.

After climbing behind the wheel, Gendry pulled back out of the gates and onto the main road. Arya's edgy nerves had finally begun to ease and they were able to laugh and carry on as usual. They stopped at a few more homes on their way back to the mountain, all with no trouble. As they crested the hill of their home, Jon and Robb were waiting outside for them like always. They slowed in front of the house to let them drop the tailgate, jump on and ride to the barn with them.

“So, we got a business offer from Tormund,” Arya said as she hopped out once they’d stopped. She leaned against the side of the truck.

Robb lifted a few of the empty cases to take inside. “What’s that? He want more?”

“Actually, he wants to stop paying us in cash and just exchange the _Bite_ for the jars we use to put it in.”

Jon threw his arms up on the edge of the truck bed. “Why?”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Robb remarked. “The jars cost us a good bit.”

  
“But he ain’t buyin’ enough to offset the cost for himself,” Jon countered.

Robb shared a look with Arya. They both knew Jon’s good nature would keep him from a deal that would be beneficial for them if it meant someone else would lose money. Arya took a deep breath. “Jon, he came to us with the deal, not the other way around. He sees somethin’ in it that we don’t, I reckon.”

“When will you deliver to him again?” he asked.

“Two days,” Gendry said, stacking the last of the crates inside the door.

“Give us until then to talk it out,” Robb offered, looking at Jon who nodded. “Examine it from all sides.”

“Alrighty,” Arya said, shrugging. “Works for us, I suppose. Margaery cooking breakfast, yet?” she asked.

“She is. Which reminds me,” Robb said, turning icy blue eyes on her, “you need to back off. The last thing I need is you makin’ her feel uncomfortable in her own home.”

She loved Robb, she really did, but she’d never liked him treating her like a kid. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Calling this her home, now, are we?”

“It always has been,” Robb said sternly. “The past is the past. We can’t change it. And if I can make peace with what happened, with her, then I need you to do the same.”

Arya caught Jon’s pleading look over Robb’s shoulder. She hated when they ganged up on her. She shrugged and let out a loud sigh. “Fine. I’ll make nice.”

“Don’t be too nice,” Jon said with a smirk. “No one knows what that’d look like. Might scare us all.”

“I ain’t that bad, am I?” she asked, looking at Gendry.

He smiled indulgently and shook his head. “Not at all.”

“See?” she smarted back at her brothers.

Robb snorted. “He’s married to you. He has ta keep you happy or we’ll kill him,” he reminded her. “Go get some food and Gendry get Rickon to school if you would.”

“Will do,” he said, then looked at Jon, grinning. “You sure you don’t want to take him, Jon?”

All three of them turned to Jon with wide smiles. He blushed and rolled his eyes. “I hate all a’ you,” he muttered.

After a good laugh at Jon's expense, Arya rode with Gendry to the main house. Rickon was at the table eating with Margaery and Bran.

She poured a cup of coffee and took a sip before she handed the cup over to her husband who finished it in two gulps, while he grabbed a biscuit and handed it to her. She put strawberry preserves on it for him before Rickon announced he was ready to leave and was rushing out the front door. Gendry placed a kiss on her lips, taking the biscuit, then followed the boy out of the house. She leaned against the counter and grabbed a sausage off the plate and bit into it as she watched Bran and Margaery finish their breakfast. When Bran was done he put his empty plate into the sink and rolled himself back to his room.

Arya turned her attention to the woman that supposedly loved her brother. She felt a great deal of bitterness when she looked at Margaery, knowing what her decision had done to Robb. She understood being stuck by family obligation, but there also came a point where a person had to rebel against that and do what they knew to be right.

“You keep starin’ at me like that, Arya, and my head is likely to explode,” Margaery said as she put her empty plate in the sink and began washing the dishes.

“Robb told me to take it easy on you.”

Margaery rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Is that going to make my torment worse?”

She shook her head. “No. I can do what my brother asks if I feel it’s deserved. As long as I know that you ain’t gonna stomp on his heart, again, with your high-fashion heels.”

Margaery turned off the water and looked at her, a heaviness behind her gaze that made even Arya tired. “I made a mistake. Everyone knows that by now. But I love your brother. More than I ever thought I did. It took losing him to make me realize what a mistake I’d made,” she said softly. “I promise you, though. Woman to woman, I will do everything in my power, for the rest of my life, to make him happy. Love him the way he deserves to be loved.”

Arya was a cynic, by nature, but even Margaery’s words moved her a bit. She knew what it was like to be wholly devoted to someone, but that’s what made it more difficult to understand what she’d done to Robb. “Alright. So, you’re here for good. But remember that I let you off easy last time. If you hurt my brother again, you won’t have to worry about your husband or anyone else hurtin’ you. I’ll take great joy in doing it and I can assure you that they’ll never find your body on this mountain.”

Margaery actually looked afraid for half a second before she nodded. “I believe you,” she said softly. “But I’m here for good. We might as well get along for that reason alone.”

Arya shrugged. “If we got along it would make people uncomfortable,” she teased as she walked to the door. “I’m goin’ to bed.”  


“Sleep well,” Margaery called back.

She walked up the hill a bit to her and Gendry's little house. She opened the door, then all the windows, letting the house breathe. She stripped out of her clothes and into the cool sheets of their bed. She never fell asleep until Gendry got back, but she did need the time to just lay quietly and unwind from their night’s ride. She knew she shouldn’t be jealous, but she was. It was an emotion she hated, and it always took a bit of time for her to shake herself from the hateful voice in her head that told her she wasn’t good enough to keep Gendry satisfied.

She wrapped her arms around his pillow and breathed in deep, needing his scent, letting it fill her with calm. He was hers and she was his. That's all that mattered.

It seemed like only a few minutes later when the door to their house slammed shut and Gendry was standing at the foot of the bed shucking out of his boots. She sat up on her elbow and watched him. Feeling more than a little territorial of him at that moment, she crawled to the end of the bed and looped her fingers through his suspenders and shoved them off his shoulders. His undershirt was tugged over his head next and tossed to the floor.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her properly, the taste of coffee and strawberries still lingering on his tongue. Then his hands moved over her naked body, teasing the spots he knew would make her squirm beneath his touch. She moved back on the bed, impatient. He followed her around, his beautiful blue eyes roving over her with hunger. Arya reached up and pulled him on top of her.

Gendry didn't waste a moment, his lips leaving fire in their wake as he kissed down her body, cupping both of her breasts and running his hot tongue over the pebbled peaks. Arya always felt like her body wasn’t good enough, that she needed more curves, more _something_. But when Gendry touched her, kissed her as he was now, she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. It was a feeling that usually faded in the afterglow of their lovemaking, but at the moment, she never felt more desired.

His rough hands continued to gently fondle her breasts as his hungry mouth traveled lower. He draped one bare thigh over his shoulder and pushed the other toward the bed, the actions sending a delicious surge of want through her.

The first touches of his warm, wet mouth to her cunt always drove her mad. Before Gendry, she hadn’t even known people would do such a thing, much less men that she’d always heard were selfish in the bedroom. That wasn’t her Gendry. He gave and gave until he was sure she felt the same thing he did every time they coupled. She knew he was a rare one.

The flicks of his tongue against her clit, teasing her briefly before dropping down to lap at her entrance caused her to thrash beneath him. He knew exactly what to do to have her panting for him. His fingers danced along the inside of her thigh and she leaned up to watch him. His blue eyes met hers as he slid one in, followed by another. She didn't bother to smother her gasp. He would get her wet and ready for him with expert care. He was too big otherwise. In the early days, he’d always feared hurting her, but that wasn’t an issue anymore. He knew exactly what to do. The smooth glide of his fingers inside her, the tease of his tongue and lips as he sucked her into his mouth, and that haunting look of adoration in his eyes as he pleasured her always sent her over the edge.

She called out his name, begging him not to stop. She loved the feel of her husband between her thighs, knowing he wanted her as much as she wanted him. When he was taking her over the edge and even the soft strokes after she’d shattered around him, she always felt a little more like they were perfect for one another than her trying to play catch-up and be someone she wasn’t supposed to be.

Gendry growled against her skin, flicking her little bud of nerves back into his mouth as he sped up his fingers, seemingly determined to make her come apart. His fingers moved inside her with ease and feeling her own wetness slipping down to the cleft of her ass had Arya tugging on him. She needed him inside of her. But Gendry captured both of her hands in his free one and held them against her belly. She bucked beneath him, torn whether she wanted him to stop or continue on, but with the way he sucked on her clit, his fingers pumping into her harder and faster, she knew that if he stopped she’d kill him. It was blissful torture.

With the slight dominance of him pinning her hands and the intensity of how fast and hard he was taking her with his lips and fingers, she came hard, screaming his name. While she was still writhing, he released her and crawled over her shaking body. His mouth met hers and she accepted his kiss greedily. She used her feet to shove his trousers down around his knees. He pulled them the rest of the way off, followed by his undershorts.

He rolled to his back, pulling her on top, and she thrilled to see him wiping sweat from his brow and his eyes raking over her body. Most times they started like this, letting her set the pace and stretch around him. It didn’t matter how many times Arya assured him that she could handle a bit of rough treatment from him, he had to be worked into it. She smiled as she took his length in her hand and stroked over him several times, then teased him through her folds. They both groaned as his hands came up to pinch her nipples and she pressed the head of him inside her channel.

The strokes at first were slow and shallow. Each one felt like it was ripping her apart but in the best way possible. He never made her go faster than she wanted, deeper than she was ready for. She found his patience to be as arousing as the way he looked at her. His large hands caressed her thighs, her ass, her tummy, her sides, her breasts and finally her face. He tugged on her a bit and she fell against his chest to press her lips to his. She was moving faster, now, taking him deeper. He released a low growl and she pulled away to nip at his neck.

Suddenly she was on her back, heels resting on his shoulders as he began thrusting into her. He took it slow, at first, knowing her so well and how she liked it. He propped his hands beside her head and she gripped one of his wrists as the other tangled in his hair and pulled. He turned his head and nipped at her arm with his teeth. She gasped as his thrusts sped up until she found it nearly impossible to breathe. “Gen-dry,” she panted and then his fingers pressed against her little bud and she broke apart beneath him. Her legs shook, eyes closed, unable to watch him as he used her with expert finesse, only feeling. She groaned as he pulled out of her and pumped his hot seed onto the back of her thighs.

Gendry collapsed to the side of her, his hand finding hers. She opened her eyes. He lay on his back, covered in sweat, and gloriously naked. He was hers and she relished in it until he stirred from the bed and grabbed the piece of linen beside the water basin and rejoined her on the bed where he cleaned her up. She was truly exhausted, now. There was nothing like a night out with him, doing their job, accomplishing a mission, and then satiating themselves in their bed. And the care that he took with her after always did more to soothe her wariness at feeling inferior to others than anything else could. He dropped the soiled rag beside the basin and tucked the light sheet around them as he settled back into bed.

“I love you,” he said into the silent room.

She moved into his arms, even though it was almost too warm to be so close to one another. She would suffer through anything for him, really. “I love you, too.”

“Let’s get some sleep. You’ve worn me out,” he joked as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and then her nose.

“Yes. Sleep. And then we can do it all over again later.”

He nuzzled his nose against her temple. “That’s _my_ she-wolf.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Leave us a comment and let us know what you think. We love hearing from you guys.
> 
> Also, the posting order, as it's currently being written is Robb, Jon, Dany, Marg, Arya/Gendry. We haven't deviated from that yet.


	6. I Took You By The Hand And We Stood Tall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olenna arrives at Winter's Peak. Plans for the future are made. The Starks get a new ally. Robb and Margaery get some much needed alone time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Peeps! First, huge thanks to my co-writer justwanderingneverlost for creating the most gorgeous mood boards for this fic. With every piece of art she creates, it only helps inspire my writing. 
> 
> To our lovely readers who have asked for a midweek update, the answer to that is 'no'. We are still working on our other fics outside of this pursuit. Being able to have peace of mind that this will only be posted on Monday's allows us more freedom to work on our other fics. Updates will stay on Monday.
> 
> Thank you to Meisie who is being a wonderful beta for this project of ours. It pleases us greatly when she tells us she likes a chapter. Her opinion is so very valuable to us.
> 
> To our other Tarts, who we adore, FrostBitePanda, sparkles59, Jaqtkd, and noordinarylines, thank you for the endless support and for being awesome ladies who understand the plight and the joys of writing. 
> 
> We hope you all enjoy this chapter as it was fucking fun to write. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did writing it!

 

**ROBB**

_And after the storm,_  
_I run and run as the rains come_  
_And I look up, I look up,_  
_On my knees and out of luck, I look up._  
_Night has always pushed up day_  
_You must know life to see decay_  
_But I won't rot, I won't rot_  
_Not this mind and not this heart, I won't rot._  
  
_And I took you by the hand_  
_And we stood tall,_  
_And remembered our own land,_  
_What we lived for._  
_But there will come a time,_  
_you'll see, with no more tears._  
_And love will not break your heart,_  
_but dismiss your fears._  
  
_Get over your hill and see what you find there,_  
_With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair._  
_And now I cling to what I knew_  
_I saw exactly what was true_  
_But oh no more._  
_That's why I hold,_  
_That's why I hold with all I have._  
_That's why I hold._  
  
_I won't die alone and be left there._  
_Well I guess I'll just go home,_  
_Oh God knows where._  
_Because death is just so full and man so small._  
_Well I'm scared of what's behind_  
_and what's before._  
  
_And there will come a time,_  
_you'll see, with no more tears._  
_And love will not break your heart,_  
_but dismiss your fears._  
_Get over your hill and see what you find there,_  
_With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair._  
  
_After the Storm_  
_**Mumford and Sons**_

Robb wiped his hands on the rag he pulled from his back pocket as Jon poured a jar of their newest batch and held it out to him. He accepted it and took a sip, nodding as the pleasant burn went down his throat. It was nearly noon and they already had the batch ready to pour out. He had the list in front of him, about to start separating, but stopped at the sound of a car pulling up outside the house. He rushed to the door, Jon on his heels, his gun in his hand.

**  
**

They both looked out to see a single car sat idling in front of their house. Robb hurried from the barn to head off whoever it was. The driver climbed out and walked around the car and opened the back door. He squinted against the bright sunlight, freezing the moment Olenna Tyrell climbed from the back seat, looking around and saying something to her driver.

**  
**

“Mrs. Tyrell,” he said, tipping his hat to her, “what can we do for you?”

**  
**

“I’m here to see my granddaughter,” she said plainly, her eyes narrowing at him. He felt pinned beneath her gaze, but he wouldn’t hand over Margaery, not even to the woman she thought of as her mother.

**  
**

“As I told her _husband_ a few days ago, she’s not here.”

**  
**

“Peddle that somewhere else, boy. I know she’s here,” she said as she looked at their house, a sneer on her face. “She either comes out to see me or I go in to see her. Your choice.”

**  
**

Robb took several steps, putting himself between her and the house. “I told you. She’s not here. And I don’t care who you think you are, but you will not go into my home without my permission.”

**  
**

Olenna lifted her chin and gave a small smile. “Looks like the decision has been taken out of your hands,” she said as Robb felt a hand on his shoulder.

**  
**

He looked over at Margaery, anger and fear warring within him. Her grandmother held open her arms and she only hesitated for a moment before she moved forward and hugged her.

**  
**

Olenna rubbed down her hair as they whispered to one another. The older woman pulled back, cupping her face in her hands. “Let’s go inside and speak. Boy, you come, too,” she said to Robb as they started up the steps of the porch. Robb waved Jon off and watched him walk to Gendry and Arya’s house and knock on the door. His brother knew it was best to have everyone on guard.

**  
**

He walked in to find Margaery pouring tea for her grandmother as the woman stood in the middle of the room looking around. Her lip was curled up in a sneer, her eyes flashing as they landed on him. Margaery ushered her into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and the older woman sat and sipped at the tea.

**  
**

“So, this is where you’ve run to? From the lap of luxury into the arms of poverty?”

**  
**

Margaery frowned and shook her head. “It’s where I always should have been.”

**  
**

Olenna shook her head. “My girl, no one deserves this, not even these people.” Outrage bubbled up within Robb, but Margaery’s hand held steady on his wrist. He went back to leaning against the counter, folding his arms over his chest to contain himself. “There is apparently something that has happened that I’m not aware of. Tell me,” Olenna ordered.

**  
**

“Joffrey put his hands on me,” Margaery told her. “He hit me, bloodied my nose and lip. Choked me. And, he tried to rape me,” she whispered. “I couldn’t stay there so I came to the one place I’ve always felt safe.”

**  
**

“You didn’t feel safe within our walls?” Olenna asked affronted.

**  
**

“It was you, grandmother, that convinced me that marrying Joffrey was the best for everyone.”

**  
**

“And it still is,” she insisted. “You deserve the very best things in life, Margaery. A life where you won’t have to want for anything. Instead, you’ve chosen squalor and a pair of impressive blue eyes,” she said as she looked at Robb. “And you’re over the moon, I’m sure. Able to pluck the prettiest rose and tarnish it so it fits in your dilapidated garden?”

**  
**

Robb straightened, his hands fisted at his side.“You’re a guest in this house,” he said lowly. “Insult my family again and I will remove you, I don’t give a damn who you are.”

**  
**

Olenna looked at Margaery and heaved a sigh. “My girl, I understand that Joffrey crossed the line. You’re well within your rights as his wife to make him suffer for it. But running off and living in sin with a pauper is not the right way to go about it. You will return with me this afternoon and we’ll put this whole silly business behind us.”

**  
**

“I’m not leaving,” Margaery insisted. Robb’s heart swelled, hearing her speaking so adamantly to her grandmother. “I will never go back to Joffrey.”

**  
**

Olenna rolled her eyes. “You most certainly will. Our lot as women is to endure, we persevere and come out the better for it–”

**  
**

Margaery twisted away from her, closing her eyes and breathing deep before turning to her again. “I am _not_ going back. I’m staying here, where I belong. With the man who loves me.”

**  
**

“Loves you?” Olenna scoffed. “More than anything, yes?” Robb hated the condescension in her voice. The word love sounding like a curse on her tongue. “Does he _love_ you more than his family that he’s been trying so staunchly to defend?”

**  
**

Margaery frowned and narrowed her eyes at her grandmother. “What do you mean?”

**  
**

Olenna turned her eyes to him once more. “Robb Stark, you are in charge of the welfare of your family. What if I could provide for them for the rest of their lives? Make it so your brother and his health issues are taken care of forever? Repair this run-down wreck of a home? Make your farm viable where you and your _cousin_ didn’t have to run moonshine?”

**  
**

Margaery was suddenly on her feet, her head tilted as she shook it. “You’re trying to buy him off?”

**  
**

“Not trying. I’m going to succeed,” Olenna declared, never taking her eyes from Robb. His skin began to crawl, his blood boiling. “One hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. It would set your entire family up for life.”

**  
**

Bile rose in his throat, the taste of it burning and bitter. It was more money than he could ever imagine. Enough to solve all of their problems. It would take care of Bran, Rickon, Arya, Gendry...all of them. But his heart raced, remembering Margaery and her battered face the night she’d run to him. The hope in her eyes as he’d held her and told her that he would protect her.

**  
**

Olenna smiled at him as the silence hung in the air. “Good lad. Now, Margaery, I want you to pack up whatever you brought with you–”

**  
**

“You think so little of your granddaughter that you’d send her back to a monster that you _know_ will hurt her? For what?” he seethed. “To save face? So none of your rich friends will pity you? You can take your goddamn money and lay it 'round your death bed cause that’s all it’s good for. You know nothin’ about loyalty or love if you think I would ever sell her to you.”

**  
**

Olenna scoffed, rolling her eyes and waving a hand. “Not enough money? Alright then. You drive a hard bargain, Stark. Make it one hundred fifty thousand.”

**  
**

Margaery’s breath hitched beside him and she turned her back on her grandmother. He went to her, lifting her chin with his fingers and bringing her eyes to his. He saw the tears sitting there, waiting to be spilled. He would never be the cause of her pain. He knew it then and there. He didn’t bother to look at Olenna as he addressed her, “There ain’t a price. He hurt her. He’d hurt her again. If that’s alright with you, then you don’t deserve to have her in your life, either.”

**  
**

Olenna was quiet for a moment then took a deep breath. “Damn. I was so hoping you would jump at the money. God knows you need it. But if you’re both determined to be stupid, tell me what your plan is if the Lannisters come? And believe me, boy, they will.”

**  
**

“There’s a hatch in my brother’s room. She’s hiding in it, under the house, until they leave.”

**  
**

She rolled her eyes. “That’s a horrible idea. They will come with enough force to get into this house, they’ll find her, and they’ll drag her away,” she said as she heaved a sigh. “How many people live on this godforsaken mountain with you?”

**  
**

“Seven, including Margaery and I.”

**  
**

“And two of those are boys, one of which is a cripple,” she said in distaste. She stood and crossed to Margaery, her eyes sad. “ _If_ I was to agree to help the two of you in this stupid endeavor to be together, then I need you to assure my granddaughter’s safety, which you can not do.”

**  
**

“I’m not leaving,” Margaery repeated.

**  
**

“Not willingly, anyway,” Olenna huffed. “I have a man I can send up here to live. He’s the best shot I know, good with hand-to-hand as well, and I’ll pay him as long as you house him. His number one job will be the safety of my granddaughter, to the detriment of everything else,” she muttered. “Can you house him?”

**  
**

Robb scowled. “I can protect her.”

**  
**

“You’re a damn fool if you believe that. You can’t. Not from the Lannisters. But I can if you will set aside your foolish pride and let me,” she asserted. “Do you think you can do that, boy?”

**  
**

“Robb,” Margaery said to her grandmother and he felt a swell of pride in his chest.

**  
**

“Fine. _Robb_. Do you think you can put aside this male display of preening and accept help from someone who is capable of actually helping?”

**  
**

He finally nodded. “Yes.”

**  
**

“So, you’re not as stupid as you are handsome. That’s good,” she said as she took Margaery’s hand. “You’ll also add me to your distribution list for your...shine. That way, I can assure that not only is Margaery being provided for in terms of protection, but I can send her things. Clothes, food, and money–”

**  
**

“We don’t have much, but we can provide–”

**  
**

“And here I thought you weren’t going to let something like your pride stand in the way of helping her.”

  
“It’s not pride,” he retorted.

**  
**

“I’m willing to provide for your family as well. Step outside of yourself and see that,” she said, her tone clipped and brokering no argument. He didn’t like it, but he nodded, giving his consent without having to say anything.

**  
**

“My man will be up here tomorrow morning. Have his room ready,” she said as she leaned on her cane. “Send your sister and her husband to Highgarden tonight and I will have a suitcase of items for Margaery. I will also work with our attorney to draw up a divorce for you, my dear. You may have already decided that your marriage is over, but let’s get it in writing, shall we?”

**  
**

Margaery stepped forward and hugged her grandmother. Robb watched as the older woman closed her eyes and accepted the embrace. She was trying to protect her, he knew that. But he didn’t respect someone who would willingly send their loved one into a situation they knew was dangerous for them all to keep up appearances.

**  
**

Olenna released her and brushed the tears from Margaery’s face. “No tears, my dear. This is the life you’ve chosen. Endure,” she said as she started toward the door. “And...Robb, if something should happen to my granddaughter while she’s in your care, no one in your family will be safe.”

**  
**

Robb knew well enough that she didn’t mean it as a threat. It was a promise she would keep. Margaery gripped his hand in hers and sighed. “Stay inside. I’ll escort her out,” Robb said softly. He walked down the few stairs, extending his arm to Olenna.

**  
**

“I don’t like you, boy,” Olenna said as he walked her back to the car.

**  
**

“I don’t like you, either,” he replied, “but, I’ll _endure_ you for her.”

**  
**

“We agree, then,” she said as he opened the door for her. “Nothing is more important to me than her. Understand what you’re being given, Robb Stark.”

**  
**

“I won’t squander it like some.”

**  
**

She gave him a nod. “You had better not. I’ll hold true to my word.”

**  
**

Robb closed the door behind her after she climbed into the car. He saw Arya leaning against the post on her porch and Gendry standing with Jon in the open door of the barn. He waved them all off as Olenna’s car pulled away.

**  
**

He walked back into the house and found Margaery braced against the counter, her shoulders hunched as she sobbed. She went to wipe down the counter, keeping her back to him, but he wasn’t going to be swayed from her, not by Joffrey, her grandmother, or her own stubbornness. He went to her and put a hand on her hip. She spun around to face him and his heart broke to see her so distraught.

**  
**

“No tears,” he whispered.

**  
**

“All that money, Robb. You could’ve--”

**  
**

He pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “I know. I know exactly what the point and purpose of her offer was, Margaery. But none of that…” He shook his head. “It matters, but so do you. And I think the people it would have impacted would agree that you’re more important than the money,” he whispered into her hair.

**  
**

“I do,” Bran’s voice cut in from behind them.

**  
**

Margaery pulled away, rushing to rid her face of tears. In all the excitement, Robb had forgotten that Bran would not only be in the house but would’ve heard everything.

**  
**

He took a few steps towards his brother. “Bran, I’m–”

**  
**

Bran shook his head. “No. You did right,” he told him, then turned to Margaery. “You’re more important. To us, this family, but...no one should be allowed to do what Joffrey did to you and your grandmother shouldn’t be tryin’ to use her money and influence to force you back to him.”

**  
**

“Bran,” she whispered.

**  
**

“I know what that money could’ve done for me, for all a' us. I just think people are more important. You came when Ma was sick, took care of us when she couldn't and kept comin’ after she was gone,” Bran said softly. “That's what counts, being there for people, carin’ for em. Not money.”

**  
**

Robb watched her cross the room and place a reverent kiss on top of his head. She brushed his dark hair back from his face. “You’re the most remarkable boy.”

**  
**

He gave her a small smile. “Don’t say that in front a’ Rickon. He might get jealous if he thinks he ain’t your favorite.”

**  
**

“I don’t have a favorite,” she insisted.

**  
**

“And if you did we all know it’d be Arya.”

**  
**

Grinning big, Bran backed his chair up and went back to his room. Margaery turned to him, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and tongue. He could tell she was uncertain, but about what he didn’t know. She crossed the room and into his arms. “You alright?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

**  
**

“I feel like I can breathe again,” she said as she buried her face into his neck. “Like I’m truly where I belong and nothing is going to take me away again.”

**  
**

*~*

**  
**

Olenna’s man, Bronn Blackwater, arrived just before sun up, walking over the hill as Jon and Robb sat on the porch, waiting for Arya and Gendry to show.

**  
**

“Which one of you do I call _boy_?” he asked, coming to a stop in the yard and looking between the two. Jon chuckled and pointed at Robb who reluctantly extended his hand to Bronn only to have him put his bag handle in it. “Olenna said you could put that in my room.” Jon smothered another laugh, while the door behind them opened and Margaery stepped out. Bronn removed his hat. “Miss Margaery.”

**  
**

She gave him a pensive smile. “If I had known you were the one on offer I would have told her to keep it.” Robb heard the humor behind her voice, despite her words.

**  
**

“Well, your grandmother always has had shit taste. She seems to think I can help you, reckons I’m better than this lot anyway.”

**  
**

Margaery put a hand on Robb’s shoulder as he rose to his feet. “Have you had breakfast, yet?”

**  
**

“No. Nice to see someone 'round here has manners though.”

**  
**

Her pretty mouth pulled into a coy smirk. “Yes, well... There’s a trough over near the barn. I’ll make sure your meals are slopped for you each and every day,” she said smoothly, folding her arms over her chest. Robb and Jon both let out a laugh.

**  
**

“You know, for people who need my help, you could be fuckin' nicer,” Bronn grumbled. He took a deep breath. “In all seriousness, Olenna wants me to look at your current plan for Margaery, tell you it’s shit, and make a better one. But we can do that after I eat. Is it bacon or sausage I smell?”

**  
**

The familiar rattle of Gendry’s truck drew close, they crested the hill a moment later, stopping in front of the house. Margaery opened the door and took Bronn’s bag from Robb. “You two go on. I’ll give Bronn the lay of everything.”

**  
**

Arya had climbed out of the truck and opened the tailgate. “Wait. If you’re takin’ stuff into the house, get this too.”

**  
**

Jon peeked over the side. “What is it?”

**  
**

“From the Tyrell’s. There’s food for all a' us and clothes and shit for Margaery,” Arya said as she plopped one of the suitcases onto the porch. Gendry unloaded the other two. Arya went back and offloaded a couple baskets of vegetables and fruits. Robb looked at the wealth sitting before them and part of him felt like a common beggar holding his hand out. It wasn’t until he felt a peck on his cheek from Margaery and he caught the look in her eye that he snapped out of his brooding.

**  
**

“Go get to work. I’ll send Bronn to help when he’s eaten and I’ve shown him the hatch,” she told him.

**  
**

He placed a kiss on her lips.

**  
**

“You never did answer whether it was sausage or bacon,” Bronn muttered, going inside to find out for himself.

**  
**

*~*

**  
**

Bronn Blackwater proved to be an interesting man. He’d lived out west for years, working for the government, keeping the Navajo in line. But eventually found his distaste for the government's practices and sometimes killings of people who were just trying to survive beyond his endurance and moved back east. He had known Mace Tyrell in their youth, but Olenna thought he was too low down to associate with her son when they were children and so she stopped the association.

**  
**

However, as adults, Bronn had proven his usefulness a time or two to the matriarch of the family and was considered to be one of the few people that Olenna might refer to as 'friend'. He insisted that it was only because they knew where they stood with one another. He wanted to be paid and she could pay. He stayed in the background, never really making much of a spectacle of himself and had the grudging respect of all the Tyrell family. Margaery insulted him regularly because he wanted her to. He swore it was to keep himself from falling in love with her beauty. Robb thought it might be partially true.

**  
**

They’d taught him about the still, their delivery system, introduced him to the two younger boys, and he’d made quick work of befriending Gendry and pissing off Arya. Called her a little girl first thing. She’d always hated it when people thought she still looked like a child. His shock at learning she and Gendry were married did get her to crack a smile though.

**  
**

All of them were down at the still once again. Bronn looked at it and then one of the full jars waiting to be taken down the mountain that night. “Do you mind?” he asked.

**  
**

Jon shook his head. “No. Interested to get your take.”

**  
**

Bronn opened the jar, sniffed, then took a swig. When he was done, he nodded and smiled. “That’s good shit. What’s the secret? Peaches?”

**  
**

Gendry looked at Jon, a frown on his face. “He’s the second person this week to ask us if it’s peaches. Is it peaches?”

**  
**

Robb chuckled and Jon rolled his eyes, smirking a bit. “It’s not peaches,” he answered.

**  
**

Gendry checked the time and winced. “I better go. See you lot later,” he said, trotting out of the barn. The truck rumbled to life soon after.

**  
**

“He’s taking the little one to school?” Bronn questioned.

**  
**

“Yeah, but since we’ve gone through most everythin’ but the brewin’ to get you up to speed, it’d seem you’ve got some time on your hands,” Jon said as he leaned against the wall.

**  
**

“I’m going to run back to the house. Margaery wanted me to help her do something with Bran this morning,” Robb said, ready to be done with Bronn for the day. Jon could keep him busy.

**  
**

The pair waved him off and he sprinted down the path and up to the steps of the house. Silence greeted him. It was so quiet when Rickon wasn’t there. When he didn’t find Margaery in the kitchen he went back to their bedroom and opened the door to find her standing in a long silk robe that was rendered see-through by the sunlight coming through the window. She was completely naked beneath it. Startled, she clutched it closed as he shut the door behind him.

**  
**

His lips were suddenly dry, his hands tingling to touch her. She smiled up at him and danced out of his reaching grasp. “Oh no, you don’t, Robb Stark! I have a special dinner planned for your family and you are not going to keep me distracted in here,” she whispered.

**  
**

“I thought you wanted me to help with somethin’ for Bran.”

**  
**

“I do. But that can wait until tomorrow. Right now, though, I just need you to get him out on the back porch for me.” He didn’t move and she put her hands on her hips. “Are you going to do as I asked?”

**  
**

He shook his head. “Not as long as you’re wearing nothing but that robe,” he said as he finally caught her about the waist. He brought her lips against his as his hands moved along the silk, rubbing it against her flesh as he touched her, moaning at the feel of her.

**  
**

“Robb,” she hissed. “I really want–” He hushed her with another kiss, but she put her hands on his chest and pushed away. “I really want to do this for your family. No more kissing,” she said as she ducked beneath his arm.

**  
**

He narrowed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts as she slid her garter belt up her hips. The true torture was watching her slide on the silk stockings and connect them to the belt. He sat beside her propped foot and looked up at her, a bright smile on his face. “I’ll agree to your terms under one condition.”

**  
**

She tilted her head at him, hands on her hips and one perfect eyebrow raised askew. “And what might that be?”

**  
**

He smiled. “You agree to wear exactly what you are now when Arya and Gendry leave for the night.”

**  
**

She chuckled. “I can do that. But wouldn’t you rather have me completely naked?”

**  
**

He shook his head. “I’m perfectly fine with peeling it all off of ya a layer at a time.”

**  
**

He stood and she caught him by his suspenders as she smiled. “You drive a hard bargain, Mister Stark. I have a condition of my own.”

**  
**

“What’s that?”

**  
**

“Figure out how to make the bed stop squeaking.”

**  
**

He chuckled and nodded. “You have a deal. We should seal it, though, with a kiss.”

**  
**

She leaned up in her toes and kissed him chastely on the lips, then turned and sauntered away.

**  
**

*~*

**  
**

Robb was on his way to check on Jon when the truck pulled up in front of the house. Rickon hopped out before it had stopped rolling and sprinted inside, past Margaery and Bran where they were sitting on the porch. Robb watched with amusement as he came back out and dropped a kiss on her cheek before rushing back in.

**  
**

“Things are good?” Jon asked as he walked up mopping his face with his rag. He’d been down in the barn most of the day.

**  
**

“As good as they can be, I reckon. How ‘bout you and the teacher?” Robb asked.

**  
**

“You ain't escapin’ the talk about her and what’s happenin’. Her family’s givin’ us food and sendin’ stuff for her now?”

**  
**

Robb leaned against the railing of the fence, watching Margaery hold the door open for Bran as they went back into the house. He looked at his cousin, _brother_ , and thought about how best to answer. “I hate takin’ anythin’ from anyone. You know that.” Jon nodded and Robb went on. “But Margaery wants to stay. I want her to stay. I want to have the life with her we were meant to have. And if that means I have to set aside my dislike for her family and how they coerced her into marryin’ Joffrey, then I’ll do it.”

**  
**

Jon looked at him for a moment and nodded again. “Alright. Then there’s a matter we gotta take care of,” he said with a sigh. “We have to do something about better insulatin’ the house. I’m hearin’...entirely too much. Maybe I just need to build my own place,” he snorted. “Get one set gone and now this.”

**  
**

Robb chuckled more than he should've, but couldn't help himself. “Speaking of which, I told you ‘bout Margaery, tell _me_  'bout the teacher.”

**  
**

Jon rolled his eyes, but Robb took delight in seeing him blush. “She’s like no woman I’ve ever known. Different from everyone round here, that’s for sure. She makes me...feel...lighter. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

**  
**

Robb shrugged. “If she makes you smile like that, she’s someone worth keepin’ 'round.”

**  
**

Jon nodded. “Yeah, I agree.”

**  
**

“So why you avoidin’ her? You could take Rickon to and from school. Give you some extra time to see her.”

**  
**

“Cause if I see her all the time, I know I won’t wanna stop,” he admitted. He was surprised Jon was being so open and honest about it. He was known for keeping everything close to the vest.

**  
**

Robb took a deep breath and hung his head. “Don’t waste any time, Jon,” he warned. “You know you can’t get it back. If you really think she’s special, take every opportunity you get to be around her. Take it from someone who allowed pride to keep him from what he wanted.”

**  
**

Jon ran a hand through his dark hair and down over his neck. “It’s not exactly the same. All it’ll take is one person in town tellin’ her how bein’ with a bastard like me will ruin her and it could all crumble.”

**  
**

“Do you think that’ll happen?”

**  
**

He shrugged, looking off at the field. “It could.”

**  
**

Robb frowned. “I think the only people that judge you ‘cause of that aren’t people we would talk to anyway. Besides, I haven’t heard you say it bothered her when you told her.”

**  
**

“It didn’t seem to.”

**  
**

“She’s not from here, so let’s assume she won’t be like some of the people _from_ here. That sort of thing might not matter so much in a place like Boston. She might just be the breath of fresh air you’ve needed since you got home.”

**  
**

Jon heaved a sigh. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

**  
**

Rickon was suddenly on the porch waving at them, then dashed across the pathway to Arya and Gendry’s and banged on the door. Robb and Jon made their way to the house, walking with Gendry and Arya as they caught up, all going to see what the fuss was about.

**  
**

They entered the house and a large rectangle table had taken up where their smaller one had been. A bench had also been brought in and their odd assortment of chairs were placed around the table too. Food was arranged on top in pots and dishes. Green beans, yams, corn, potatoes, and a nice sized ham. Fresh flakey biscuits sat in a basket in the center. Bran’s chair had been pushed up to the table and Bronn was there, handing a carving knife to Margaery.

**  
**

She smiled up at them and Robb’s chest constricted around his heart, making him feel like it would explode at any moment. She had done this for his family. _Their_ family.

**  
**

Jon clapped him on the back and went to wash his hands, then took a seat beside an enthusiastic Rickon. Robb did the same and smiled at Margaery as they sat down. She took his hand beneath the table and he winked at her which caused a pretty blush to appear on her face.

**  
**

She would be his wife, soon. He wouldn’t wait for opportunity to fall into his lap, again. As soon as she was truly free to marry him, he’d put a ring on her finger and spend the rest of his life with her. He’d just need to ask.

**  
**

*~*

**  
**

Robb had snuck down to their spot and put the blanket near the swing and now he was helping load the truck with Bronn, Jon, Gendry, and Arya. He knew Margaery was inside getting Rickon to sleep. He had every intention of taking her away from the house for some alone time once they were both finished. It was hard to make love in the house, with Jon and the boys there, and he was even more conscious of it now with someone that wasn’t a family member living in their space.

**  
**

“How long does it usually take you to run all of this?” Bronn asked.

**  
**

Arya looked over the list. “This’ll take most of the night.”

**  
**

“And you don’t get hassled by the authorities?”

**  
**

“Sheriff is one of our best customers,” Robb replied.

**  
**

“Local, not county, right?” Bronn asked.

**  
**

Jon nodded. “County sheriff hates me, but he avoids us and we avoid him. He somehow realizes that coming after us would be a mistake.”

**  
**

Bronn tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Until it’s profitable not to do so anymore.”

**  
**

“You’re a ray of sunshine,” Arya quipped.

**  
**

“I’m a pragmatist,” he countered. “It’s also my job to look at all possible angles. You said this county sheriff...what’s his name?”

**  
**

“Alliser Thorne,” Jon told him.

**  
**

“Right, Thorne, he doesn’t like you. If the Lannisters look to make you pay, would he be someone they could use?”

**  
**

Robb and Jon exchanged a worried look, both knew the truth. They could and would use Thorne if the situation arose. Bronn nodded. “Right. So, my suggestion is this: don’t do anything to cause extra attention to any of you. No more scuffles with Lannister cronies. Don’t do anything to provoke them. You keep up the line that none of you know where Margaery is.” He took a deep breath. “Collect all the guns around the property and we’ll put them in strategic locations. And your brother, Bran, should learn how to shoot and carry as well. He’s in the house with her a lot of the time when you lot are out here. She needs an extra protector.”

**  
**

Robb scowled and narrowed his eyes. “And you think my _little_ brother is the answer to that?”

**  
**

“One of them. The other is to teach her how to shoot. I can do it.”

**  
**

Robb shook his head. “I’ll teach her. Too much experience shooting at people to fall behind teaching my future wife.”

**  
**

“Oh. Already plannin’ to marry her, are you?” Arya teased.

**  
**

“He’s been plannin’ that since he was seven,” Jon grunted as he loaded the last crate onto the truck.

**  
**

“Planning and doing are two separate things. Best make sure her first marriage is over before you start reciting wedding vows,” Bronn answered and jumped as Nymeria moved past his leg. “Those wolves are an asset. You all have one?”

**  
**

Jon nodded. “Sure do, and they’ll eat you ‘fore you get the drop on one of us.”

**  
**

“Easy when they only have to fight one person without a gun,” Bronn remarked. “We have a lot of work to do over the next few days. I’m going to bed, we need to get an early start,” he said and headed back towards the house.

**  
**

Arya and Gendry pulled off a few minutes later as he and Jon finished the clean up for the next morning.

**  
**

Robb told Jon his intention of leaving the house for a bit with Margaery and he was glad he couldn’t see the smirk he knew was on his brother’s face. He entered the house and found her walking into their room, but a hand on her wrist and a jerk of his head to the back door had her following.

**  
**

He stopped halfway down the path and brought her into his arms for a heated kiss. Her hands fisted in his hair as she pressed her body against his, her soft moan the balm to his weary soul. When they reached their spot, he worked on the clasps holding her hair from her face and kissed a path from her ear down the column of her slender throat. She’d already slipped her hands beneath his shirt, her nails scratching down his back. He groaned against the warm skin of her neck as he fumbled with the tiny buttons of her dress, finally managing to push it over her shoulders.

**  
**

She turned in his arms and stumbled closer to the blanket, his body still holding her close, his hands pulling up on her skirt and slipping beneath her silk drawers. Margaery reached back for him, her hand palming his aching cock through his thick britches, gasping as his teeth scraped over her pulse. “Robb,” she hissed.

**  
**

They made it to the blanket and she kicked off her shoes, stripping off her dress as well, every bit as impatient as him. He sank to his knees in front of her and she stepped into his arms, sinking down and straddling his thighs as their mouths met again. Her tongue flicked over his upper lip and he knew he was firing up far too fast. He’d been waiting all day for this. His head was spinning, the heavy heated ache pulsing deep in his gut stealing all his senses. He needed to regain some of his self-control, and quickly, so he laid her on her back, putting some space between them.

**  
**

Next to go was her slip. He freed her from it, leaving her bare save for her stockings, garters, and flimsy drawers. Even in the dim light, she was a goddess and he could no longer deprive himself of her. He took her breast with his mouth, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak, growing harder with each roll of her hips against his own. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, holding him to her, moaning his name as his teeth scraped against the sensitive skin.

**  
**

He switched to the other and her back arched, her long shapely legs wrapped around him. Robb couldn't stop his hands from sliding over the supple skin of her thighs to grasp handfuls of her ass before he began the slow process of unhooking each stocking. He didn’t release her until all the straps hung loose, sitting back and propping one dainty foot on his shoulder. Sliding his fingers beneath the silk stocking he slowly pulled it from her leg, his fingers tickling over her skin and making her shiver. She tugged on him, trying to get him closer, but he didn’t comply, instead leaning forward and pressing his lips against her inner thigh. He repeated the process with the other leg, teasingly slow, drawing it out. Watching her writhe, hearing her sighs and moans made the wait all the more tempting, and excruciating.

**  
**

Her drawers came next. He hated he couldn’t see her as clearly as he’d like to, the moon only allowing for a few silvery wisps of light to lay across her pale skin. There was hardly a thing he liked more than to see the dark, predatory look in her eyes when he put his mouth on her.

**  
**

Trailing his fingers along the seam of her, he licked his lips, feeling her need for him, hot and slick and wet. He laid down between her milky thighs, holding them back with his hands and swiped his tongue through her folds, groaning at the taste of her and the way her thighs tightened beneath his hands. He let her go long enough to push his britches and shorts over his hips, needing some relief. He took his cock in hand, moaning as he sucked the little bundle of nerves into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

**  
**

“Robb... don’t stop,” she panted, her fingers tightened in his hair, her feet resting on his shoulders. Her toes curled, pinching at his skin as he took her closer and closer with every pass of his tongue. When he slid a finger slowly inside her, then another, all the while suckling at her clit she quickly fell apart beneath him. He soothed her through it, gentling his fingers and mouth until she was tugging on his hair to get him to release her.

**  
**

He complied, rolling her onto her stomach, tracing over the dip of her spine with his lips, and further still, until reached her throat. “On your knees, darlin’,” he whispered into her ear.

**  
**

With a shiver she did as he requested, tossing her hair over her shoulder. He moved behind her, his hands sliding over her body, feeling her stretch and moan under his touch. He pressed his length against her, hoping he was driving her as mad as he was himself. When he finally pushed inside her, it was a new torment, one of his own making. She was wet and warm and _his_. She would always be his.

**  
**

Her hand caught his wrist where it held her hip and she worked herself onto his cock, in slow, gripping pushes and grabs, enveloping him in her slick velvet heat, again and again. He grasped her shoulder with his other hand, pulling her back as he thrust forward, sinking to the hilt and holding still. He was already riding too close to the edge.

**  
**

Wrapping an arm around her waist he pulled her back against his chest, sitting them up. Her hand fisted in his hair as she turned her mouth to his, taking it in a messy and fevered kiss. His thrusts were shallow and slowed, and she groaned into his mouth. “Harder, Robb. Don’t stop,” she whimpered.

**  
**

She shivered in his arms as his fingers found her nub. He circled around it with ease, so slick with her juices, and bit her shoulder as her walls clenched and trembled around him. He began thrusting, faster than before. She gasped, then let out a strangled moan, gripping his thigh, her nails digging into muscle. Still tormenting her clit he cupped her breast in his hand, pinching and rolling her nipple, taking her higher as he pressed his face into the side of her neck. His breathing came harshly, his body responding to the coaxing of hers, eager to follow her into the abyss. He forgot how to breathe as he fell over the edge, and when he remembered, it was with great gulps of air.

**  
**

She softly hummed in his arms as they collapsed onto the blanket. He was in no rush to go back to the house and from the way she curled in his arms, he didn’t think she was either. He slid his hands over the bare skin of her hips and back. She placed kisses along his neck and he smiled, happier than he’d been in an age.

**  
**

“You’re going to carry me back to the house, right?” she asked in a breathy whisper.

**  
**

He chuckled. “I don’t know how. I can’t move.”

**  
**

“So, we’re stuck here?” He could hear the amusement in her voice and he was glad for it, knowing she was as happy as he was. “Whatever will we do?”

**  
**

Robb pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled the edge of the blanket around her. “Sleep for a bit, I reckon. Maybe do all that over again.”

**  
**

She smiled against his skin and his arms tightened around her. “That’s a good plan. I want you on top of me next time,” she whispered.

**  
**

He groaned, feeling his exhausted body twitch in response. “Anything you want, darlin’.”

**  
**

“Sleep,” she said softly. “Sleep first.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Olenna and Bronn were a JOY to write. Bronn pointing out all the holes in their plans, Olenna dangling a little nugget out to Robb. She's a ruthless woman who cares deeply for her granddaughter. 
> 
> Let us know what you think! We look forward to hearing from you. And we read all the comments as they come in, we just don't reply until Sunday.
> 
> We always provide a teaser on Saturday, so make sure you're following JW and I on tumblr.
> 
> Tumblr handles:  
> the-last-targaryens  
> ashleyfanfic
> 
> Next chapter is Jon.


	7. You Light Up My Days, My Personal Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon goes a courtin'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to meisie for doing the beta job on this chapter! We love you to pieces. You and all the salt that comes with you!
> 
> Gorgeous Mood Board made by justwanderingneverlost. She's amazing at making them, isn't she?
> 
> This chapter was SUPER fun to write and we hope you guys like it as much as we do!
> 
> For my (Ashley) Birthday, we're posting a day early!

 

**JON**

__ You were the one to visit my darkness   
You were the brightest way   
You dropped the stone into the well   
We'd wait for the sound it made   
When it got quiet, you could hear your heart   
Tell me, what did it say?   
  


__ I was a bird, you opened the cage   
It felt like a clean white page   
You came along   
You light up my days, my personal sun   
Showing me all the ways I could fall   
You made me feel new   
  


__ I'm crashing, I'm crashing right into you   
Baby, feel me crash   
I'm crashing, I'm crashing right into you   
Baby, feel me crash   
  


__ You came along   
You light up my days, my personal sun   
Showing me all the ways I could fall   
You made me feel new

 

__ I'm crashing, I'm crashing right into you   
Baby, feel me crash   
I'm crashing, I'm crashing right into you   
Baby, feel me crash

 

_ Crashing Into You  
**Vance Joy** _

__

His breath caught as she walked out of the schoolhouse, Rickon beside her. His little brother was gesturing wildly with his hands and she was laughing, her smile making his heart race. She was so beautiful it damn near made him uneasy. 

 

She stopped and spoke with one of the mothers who was there to collect her child as Rickon ran up to him, a big smile on his face. “Were you good for Miss Storm?”

 

Rickon nodded. “Yup. You said you’d whoop me if I wasn’t.”

 

Jon chuckled and opened the door for him to climb inside. Dany had finished speaking with the mother and was making her way to him, her eyes almost as bright as her smile. His mouth was suddenly dry and his mind blank. He lamented he was struck dumb with just a look from her. 

 

“Jon,” she greeted softly, finally standing in front of him. 

 

He smiled because he couldn't help it. “Dany. Rickon behave himself?”

 

She nodded and smiled at the little boy poking his head out behind him. “He did, as usual. I never have problems out of Rickon.”

 

“Cause Jon said he’d whoop me,” Rickon hollered.

 

Dany chuckled. “No  _ whoopin _ necessary. He’s a perfect gentleman. Minds his manners.” She looked at him, her eyes growing soft. “Reminds me of someone.”

 

Jon felt his face flush but he stepped closer to her. His hands were sweating and it had nothing to do with the temperature. “I’m sorry I haven’t been back in a few days.”

 

She nodded and narrowed her eyes a bit. “Avoiding me?”

 

“It’s for my own sanity,” he admitted gently. “I tend to lose control of myself when I’m around you. It ain’t somethin’ I’m used to.”

 

She gave him a slow smile and stomped her foot in frustration. “Do you know what infuriates me about you, Jon Snow? I want to be angry with you for not calling on me, but then you say something like that and I can’t be angry at all.”

 

He chuckled, his eyes meeting hers. He was being honest. He did feel out of control around her, spinning so fast he couldn’t find solid ground. He’d done nothing but think about her for days, fighting himself constantly not to come and see her, being proud of his control one minute and hating himself for staying away the next. “I’m real sorry, Dany. I ain’t got a good excuse.” He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. “But I was hopin’, if my poor manners haven’t scared you off, I could still take you somewhere tomorrow?”

 

She blushed this time and it added a softness to her face that caused his fingers to itch from not grabbing her up and giving her a kiss. “I should make you work for it after leaving me to wonder if my forwardness scared you away. But life is short, so instead of playing games, I’ll just say,  _ I’d love to go with you _ .”

 

Jon didn’t know if his heart was beating too fast or had stopped altogether. He gave her a bright smile and let out a happy sigh. “Can you be ready by dawn?”

 

Her pretty eyes went wide. “Dawn? What, exactly, will we be doing?”

 

“Ever been fishin’?”

 

She shook her head. “No, can’t say that I have. What does one wear for fishing?”

 

“Somethin’ you don’t mind gettin’ dirty.”

 

Dany smirked and he was dying to know what she was thinking. “Fine. Dawn. Does that have a specific time?”

 

“Six?”

 

“Alright then, six. I'll see you tomorrow, Jon,” she said, winking before she turned and walked back to her house. He stood staring for a moment, watching her hips sway as she walked away. He kept his mind from imagining all the things he wanted to do with her and made himself get in the truck.

 

Thankfully, Rickon began talking about school as soon as he started up the engine, helping distract him. “Miss Storm let me help her hand out papers today!”

 

“I’m proud a’ you for bein’ a good boy.”

 

Rickon smiled. “She’s nice. Like Miss Margaery.”

 

Jon reached over and ruffled his hair and chuckled thinking Rickon and his snake were the reason he had a date tomorrow morning. 

 

*~*

 

When he pulled in front of Dany’s house the following morning the sun was just beginning to spill into the valley. Jon hoped the car wasn't too loud and wouldn't cause anyone to get up and look outside. He couldn't stand the thought of people thinking less of her because of him. He scolded himself just like he’d done a hundred times in the last week. _ This was a stupid idea and you're a stupid man reaching too far. _

 

The thought almost had him driving away until her front door opened and she stepped out. He couldn't leave her standing there so he forced himself out of the car. 

 

She was smiling at him, seemingly undisturbed by the way his being there might be viewed, looking lovely in a grey button-down shirt and wide legged pants. They made her appear taller, yet didn't hide a single curve. 

 

She stepped down and he held out his hand to her. She took it, still smiling. “I wasn’t sure if this would work—“

 

“You look perfect,” he said softly. 

 

Her smile grew even wider, then she shook her head. “Wait. Let me complete the look.” She placed a wide-brimmed hat she’d been holding on her head. “How’s this?”

 

“Pretty as a picture,” he replied, opening the door for her. “We could stand around here with me starin’ at ya all day.”

 

She laughed and climbed into the car. He got them on the road out of town, looking down when her fingers entwined with his. He tried to concentrate on driving and not on the feel of her soft skin. It was damn near impossible.

 

“You never went fishin’ when you were little?” he asked, hoping to ease the tension.

 

She shook her head. “No. My mother would have fallen over at the thought. I was raised a prim and proper lady.” She squeezed his hand a bit and smiled as he looked at her. “As you can see, some things have changed.”

 

Jon frowned. “You’re still a lady.”

 

She stroked her thumb over his. “But not quite so prim and proper. That’s a rather boring way to live.”

 

He huffed. “You’re  _ anythin’ _ but borin’.”

 

She smirked then cleared her throat. “I’ve heard some stories about you and your family,” she said softly. He felt his defenses go up but her smile didn’t waver. Whatever she’d heard hadn’t been bad enough to make her back away from him. “Robb has been quite the topic around town.”

 

“Why’s that?” Jon asked, playing dumb. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but he knew Robb didn’t and wouldn’t until he could meet her. 

 

“That family...what’s their name...Langston? Larson?”

 

His heart dropped. “Lannister.”

 

“Yes. They’re saying your brother kidnapped someone’s wife and you’re hiding her on your property. That’s ridiculous if you ask me,” she remarked.

 

“It is. Just curious why you think so.” 

 

They’d made it to their picnic spot. He parked the car and handed her the basket with a blanket inside as he grabbed the poles and pail. Rickon had been only too happy to find worms for Dany to use on her trip fishing, he just didn’t know why he wasn’t allowed to come along.

 

“Because of the other gossip I heard. Robb and this...Margaery?” At Jon’s nod, she continued, “They were in love but she married Jeffrey, instead.”

 

“Joffrey.”

 

“Right,” she said as she looped her arm through his free one. “But she up and disappears after they get married and her car is found two counties over? Sounds to me like she left rather than was taken. Can’t say that I blame her. There’s nothing worse than feeling trapped in a marriage,” she said softly. He hopped down the embankment, looking up at her in concern. She waved him off, glancing away. He helped her down, wanting to ask more questions, but didn’t want to pry before she was ready. “So, as I see it, she ran and had a plan with someone already in the works and the Lannisters are being bad sports about their prize leaving them, or...something happened and your family  _ is _ hiding her but for reasons other than her bad marriage.”

 

She stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest, her blue eyes staring up at him with understanding. “And if it’s the last scenario, I’d like to know if she might need anything like clothes...” He started to protest, but she brushed her thumb over his jaw. “I would never betray your trust,” she whispered. “You don’t know me that well, I understand that, so you don’t actually have to say the words, I simply...wanted you to know that I can and will if you ever need it.”

 

He put down the poles and pail and took her hands in his. “I wanna tell you a lot of things...but I can’t cause it ain't just me.”

 

She nodded and stepped into the circle of his arms. He held her tight, feeling a bit of relief that she seemed to understand what was happening without him having to confirm or deny anything, really. His silence might have been confirmation enough. He pulled back to find her smiling at him. She leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on his lips then moved out of his arms. 

 

“So, what do I need to know about fishing?”

 

He smiled, picking up their poles and escorting her to the water. Soon they had the blanket laid out beside the river’s edge and all their fishing gear situated. “First thing about fishin’ is you gotta whisper. Fish get scared off by a lot of noise.”

 

She chuckled and sat down with him. “So, your idea for getting to know one another is an activity where we have to talk in hushed tones?”

 

He shook his head, blushing, again. “I reckon I didn’t think of that. Sorry, we can go–”

 

She shoved him playfully with her shoulder. “I will never get tired of seeing you blush.”

 

“I ain't blushin',” he grumbled as she giggled. Then he put the pail in front of her. “Dig a worm outta there.”

 

Her laughter ended abruptly, eyes wide as she looked into the pail of wiggling worms and dirt. She shook her head. “No, I don't think so.”

 

He chuckled. “Dany, that’s how you catch a fish. You have to dangle a worm on a hook.”

 

“I understand the concept. It’s the touching a worm I take issue with.”

 

He rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. Reaching into the pail he brought out a large worm and threaded the hook through it as Dany looked on in disgust. “You city girls just don’t appreciate things that slither cross the ground. Ya don’t like snakes or worms.”

 

She giggled again. “I’ve dealt with plenty of snakes and worms in my life. While these seem less dangerous, they're dirtier.”

 

He looked over at her curious at her words but found her leaned back on her hands, her feet crossed at the ankles, her smile beyond anything he’d ever known. It made him weak deep in his bones and all he wanted was to keep it on her face forever. “You gonna tell me how you really ended up in this town?”

 

She nodded. “Soon. But not today?”  

 

He had his own secrets, he couldn't begrudge her hers. With a nod, he put the pole in her hand and stood, then held out a hand to help her up and moved her closer to the bank. “Alright, so,” He stepped behind her and took her hand in his showing her how to grip the pole. “What ya wanna do is bring your arm back, keep the line slack, and just...lay your hook out on the water.” He held her hip with one hand and used the other to help her cast. She leaned back against his chest, turning her head to look up at him. He was about to lean down and kiss her when there was a tug on the line. She snapped forward and let out a girlish squeal. 

 

He helped her reel it in and she gave a triumphant shout as they pulled it out of the water. He removed the fish from the hook and held it up for her to look at. “I ain't never seen beginner’s luck like that,” he said with a shake of his head. “Hold it.”

 

She looked at him with wide eyes and shook her head. “Oh no. I feel the same about fish as I do worms and snakes.”

 

Jon smirked. “Dany, c'mon, hold your fish.”

 

“No.” She backed up and he advanced on her, catching her around the waist before she could get away. “Jon Snow, you let me go,” she laughed and pushed at his arm. Her dark hair flew in his face as she wriggled against him and before he could stop it, the fish flew from his fingers, landing back in the water with a plop. They both watched it swim away. 

 

He looked at her for a moment, shocked he’d let it go. Her ocean eyes were wide and sparkling, smile bright and his heart skipped a beat or three. She was so damn beautiful. Then she was laughing, wrapping her arms around his neck. “That’s what you get for teasing me,” she said, her fingers running through his hair. 

 

He grabbed her up around her waist and pressed his lips to hers. The taste of her, her scent, the feel of her, she was delicious and it all made it harder to think. He didn’t even realize they were sinking to the blanket until she was hovering over him, her dark hair falling around his face as she pressed her body against his. His breath left him then.

 

She sat back and untucked her shirt from her pants. Her plump bottom lip was held tight between her teeth, her beautiful eyes staring into his as she began undoing the buttons. He let his gaze wander over the soft skin she was slowly exposing, and his hands slid over her hips and up her silk covered abdomen, the temptation too strong to fight. She dropped the shirt to the ground and leaned forward, taking his mouth with hers. 

 

He closed his eyes, hoping to control himself, not wanting to rush, but to savor every move of her body against his, every press of her sweet lips. Grasping at control he rolled her over, slipping a leg between her thighs, sliding a hand through her hair, his other tugging her camisole from her trousers. He worried his dirty hands would ruin the silk, but she sat up enough to tug it over her head, and if she didn’t care, he didn’t either.

 

His mouth went dry at seeing her flawless skin, so pale and flushed pink, her nipples rosy peaks begging for attention. She gasped as he traced a path from her hip to her bare breast. He kept his touch light, almost afraid that if he put any more pressure she would disappear beneath him. 

 

She took his hand in hers and made him squeeze her breast. “I won’t break, Jon,” she said with a smile as she brought his lips back to hers. He was trying to keep a tight rein on his desire, to control himself, but his body was experiencing too much too fast, leaving him dizzy. It’d been so long since he’d touched a woman that he knew he was dancing far too close to the edge to keep pressed against her. 

 

He broke the kiss to trail his lips over her neck, lucking upon a spot that caused her to grind her center against his knee and moan his name. Her hands tugged at his shirt and he stilled her, sitting back. “Fore you do that...there’s somethin’ you outta know. I was injured in the war. Got a chest full of shrapnel...” His words trailed off as her hands cupped his face. 

 

She let go and pushed his suspenders over his shoulders. “I’m not going to run from you, Jon,” she whispered, helping him remove his shirt. 

 

He didn’t look at her face, afraid of what he would find written there. He knew the scars were ugly, and he wouldn’t even be upset if she decided she couldn't deal with them. Part of him thought he deserved that, to get so close to something perfect only to have it snatched away. But as she shifted to her knees in front of him his soul felt soothed by the delicate brush of her fingers against the one over his heart. 

 

“Oh, Jon,” she breathed, “How did you survive this?” 

 

“Reckon it just wasn't my time.”

 

Her lips over the scar caused his skin to prickle, and his heart to swell. She looked up at him then, a frown on her face. “They don’t still hurt, do they?”

 

Amazed at the warmth in her eyes, he shook his head, cupping her face and kissing her again, his tongue sliding out to taste her lips. He’d never wanted anything the way he did her right then. 

 

She kissed him back, giving as well as she was getting, her hands mapping him, nails scraping gently over his skin. He broke the kiss, gasping and she took the opportunity, pushing him onto his back. He gripped her tighter, praying he could keep from embarrassing himself by not letting her wiggle around on top of him. He pushed all his focus to her, ignoring his throbbing cock where it pressed against her belly. 

 

He cupped her breasts again, taking one of the peaks into his eager mouth, the taste of her skin, the feel of her, intoxicating. She tossed her head back, gasping and straddled his hips, pressing down against his cock. He released her with a strangled groan and gripped her hips to hold her still. “God, Dany. Have mercy, please,” he choked.

 

She gave him a wicked grin and shook her head. “I want you as crazy for me as I am for you,” she purred, rolling her hips over his. 

 

“You already got that,” he said through gritted teeth. “You gotta stop or...”

 

She leaned down and kissed along his chin and up to his lips. “Or what?” she asked, but her tone told him she knew exactly  _ what _ . “Touch me,” she ordered softly. “I’ll take care of you, Jon. Just keep touching me,” she panted, her hips still rolling.

 

All sense left him. He lifted his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Gripping her hip in his other hand he tried to slow her down, wanting it never to end, but she kept up her game of torture. He groaned and released her breast, his head dropping back to the blanket with a dull thunk. She propped her hands on his chest, his went to her grinding hips as she began to whimper. 

 

It was all too much, the sight, sound, and feel of her. His body betrayed him, the ever-tightening coil within him springing loose and exploding into a thousand blissful shards that shot through every inch of him. A guttural groan escaped, his hips thrusting into her as he rode out his climax. He couldn’t breathe, couldn't look at her, couldn't move as he felt her still rubbing against him, her moans echoing through the trees. When he finally opened his eyes, it was to watch her fall over the edge. Eyes closed, mouth open, body shaking, hips jerking against his. 

 

The gorgeous image of her would be burned into his brain forever. He closed his eyes and swallowed, feeling no better than a green boy. He was thankful at least his failing hadn’t stopped her from finding her own pleasure. No thanks to him. He wished he’d had better control over himself. Wished he could be the perfect lover for her. 

 

“Jon,” she breathed, her hands running over his chest. He still didn’t open his eyes, his face on fire. But then her lips pressed against his, so soft and gentle, full of sweetness. “Open your eyes,” she whispered.

 

He did as she asked and found her flushed pink from her cheeks to her breasts, a dreamy satisfied smile on her face. She kissed him once more, then rested her head on his shoulder. “I love fishing,” she said, and he felt her smile against his skin.

 

Closing his eyes again, he wrapped his arms around her bare back, still so unsure of himself, so ashamed he felt sick. “I’m sorry, Dany.”

 

She lifted her head, her dark brows twisted in confusion. “Whatever for?”

 

“For...what just happened.”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

 

“I...well...I invited you fishin’. I didn’t intend for this...and then you were on top of me and I couldn’t...” he stuttered, cheeks still flaming, his eyes looking anywhere but at her. 

 

She turned his face towards hers. She was grinning, one pretty eyebrow arched. “Jon Snow, I’ll be insulted if you regret any of what just happened between us.” 

 

He frowned. “I’m a jackass. You deserve better.”

 

She scowled and propped her hand on the ground beside his head. “Hush, that. Nothing happened that I didn't mean to. You needed that and so did I.” Her smirk came back. “Now maybe we can think straight for a bit. And besides, I’m not some virginal maid you have to protect. When I know what I want I tend to go after it with a single-minded determination. It just so happens it's you I want.”

 

He frowned. “You sure ‘bout that?”

 

“I haven't been more sure of anything in a very long time, if ever.” She pressed her lips to his and kissed him softly but thoroughly then tucked her head beneath his chin, letting out a contented sigh. 

 

So overwhelmed by her Jon couldn't do any more than lay a cheek on her hair and hold her tight against him. 

 

“I do love to see you blush,” she said with a soft laugh. 

 

He chuckled despite himself. “You seem to have the ability to make me blush better an anyone I ever met.”

 

Her fingers stroked through his hair as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “What should we do on our next date to top this?” she asked.

 

He ran his hand over the line of her spine, feeling himself begin to relax. She wanted another date. It’d need to be more public, he got too lost in her to be trusted alone. “There’s the fair I told you ‘bout. I could take you tonight.”

 

She lifted her head, smiling. “I’d love to, but that doesn’t mean we have to end this right now, does it?”

 

He shook his head. “Dany, I don’t know if you told me the woods were on fire that I’d be able to move. Don't think we're going anywhere for a while.”

 

She giggled. “So much for fishing.”

 

He closed his eyes and breathed her in. “We caught one, at least.”

 

“ _ I did _ . I don’t know what you were doing and that’s how I’ll tell the story,” she laughed. 

 

He laughed right back. “You can’t claim you caught it if you wouldn’t even touch it.”

 

Dany rolled to his side, her thigh still draped over him. “I can claim anything I want. For instance, I’m declaring that you’re mine.”

 

He turned towards her, his eyes searching hers, fearing he'd find only humor and teasing. But he didn't, he’d never seen her eyes hold more sincerity. He had to take several deep breaths before he could speak. “You sure you wanna do that?”

 

She stroked his cheek with her thumb and nodded. “I told you, Jon. I've never been more sure.”

 

He stomped on the need inside himself to declare everything to her right then and there, to completely open his world to her forever. He knew there was still a lot he didn't know about her, things she didn’t know about him. He’d wait. He could be patient, let them get to know more about each other before he declared himself head over heels in love with her. Even if he was fairly certain the later part was already true.

  
  


*~*

 

Jon walked out of his bedroom that evening, feeling butterflies the size of Ghost floating around in his stomach. Robb was seated at the table with Margaery, Bran, and Rickon. “Look how pretty he is when he cleans up,” he teased.

 

Jon ignored him, walking to the table to pluck a piece of cornbread from the plate. 

 

“Robb, hush,” Margaery chastised. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat before you go?” she asked Jon.

 

“No, thank ya,” he said with a shake of his head. “Half the fun of the fair is the food.”

 

“Why can’t I go?” Rickon sulled.

 

Margaery brushed down his hair and frowned with him. “You’re going with Arya and Gendry tomorrow.”

 

“But Jon is goin’ with Miss Storm. What’re they gonna talk about without me?”

 

Robb smiled up at Jon. “Yes, what will you talk about?” Margaery poked him with her fork. “Ow! Damn woman!” he laughed as he pushed her away. 

 

“Stop teasin’ him. Arya will do a fine enough job of that when she gets wind of it.” Margaery stood and put her plate in the sink then gave Jon a pat on the shoulder. “Have fun and ignore your brother.”

 

Robb grinned at him as he walked to the door. “Sure you don’t want a chaperone?”

 

Jon stopped and looked back at him, his eyes narrowed. “Sure. And I can escort you and Margaery on your next  _ walk _ , too.”

 

Margaery hit Robb on the shoulder and he had the good graces to blush. She walked over to Jon and put a hand on his arm. “Leave before he decides to speak again,” she said as she shoved him toward the door.

 

Jon grabbed the key and pecked her on the cheek. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

 

She smiled. “He doesn’t think so, either.”

 

Jon gave them a wave and sprinted to the car. It had been a little after noon before he and Dany had roused from their private corner of the world. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought of how beautiful she had looked resting in his arms. He’d clung to her a bit tighter, his fingers flexing over her soft skin. She had snuggled deeper into his side, her hand resting on his bare chest. They’d actually gotten up and caught a few fish before they left too.

 

He’d walked her to her door and she’d turned and kissed him goodbye. It had been soft and chaste compared to how they’d been earlier that morning, but it was still enough to stir him. He’d wanted to push her into the house and slide his hands beneath her shirt, press against her so she understood exactly how she affected him. 

 

Parking in front of her house he froze at seeing one of her neighbors sitting on their porch. He scolded himself. She knew, he’d told her more than once, and even though he still couldn't fathom why, she didn't care. He had to get beyond this fear their opinions would drive her away. He walked up to her door and knocked. It opened only a few moments later and he smiled. Every time he saw her she was like a breath of spring rushing through him; soft, beautiful, and inviting. A promise of something wonderful on the horizon. 

 

“You look beautiful, Dany,” he blurted out. She was wearing a fancy dress with a drop waist and tiny pleats in dark red, like a flapper girl from the big city. Entirely unsuited for a county fair, but he sure did like it. 

 

She smiled and looped her hand through his arm. “You clean up well yourself, Mister Snow.”

 

He wrinkled his nose. “If I have ta call you Dany you can’t call me that.”

 

She stopped at the door of the car and straightened his collar, smirking. “I think I’ll need some sort of incentive.”

 

He laughed and tilted his head. “What’d you have in mind?”

 

“Kiss me.”

 

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

 

“Not yet?” she pouted. “How long will I have to wait?”

 

He opened the door behind her. “How long can you wait?”

 

“Not long. I’m an impatient woman,” she said as she climbed into the car. “I tend to take what I want.”

 

“Lucky for me, ain’t it?”

 

She smiled brightly. “I like this side of you almost as much as I like it when you blush.” She tucked her feet into the car and he closed the door behind her. 

 

When he got in, she turned his face towards her and kissed him. When she pulled back she laughed and reached into her bag for a handkerchief. 

 

He looked in the mirror and saw that her lipstick had rubbed off on his lips. He smirked and shook his head. “Had to be red, didn’t it?”

 

She nodded. “It is my best color,” she said cleaning him up.

 

“You don’t have a bad one,” he mumbled as he pulled onto the main road. She was sitting right beside him and already had his hand curled around hers in her lap. 

 

“Flatterer,” she said as she stroked her thumb over the back of his hand. “I’ve never been to a fair, before. What should I expect?”

 

“Games, food, rides. How ya feel about heights?”

 

“Indifferent,” she said with a shrug. 

 

“Is there anythin’ you’re afraid of?”

 

She nodded. “Deep dark terrors that haunt my soul. A little too deep and dark.”

 

“I’ve noticed you dance around really deep questions.”

 

She sighed. “I suppose I do. Fine. I’m scared of losing people I care about and being left alone in this world.”

 

He looked down at her, frowning. “Funny our fears line up like that.”

 

Dany shook her head. “Or perhaps there’s a reason we’re so drawn to one another. We recognize something in the other.”

 

“Think so?”

 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m making it up as I go along. Looking for some reason to explain why I’m so attached to you so quickly.”

 

He glanced at her again and was taken with her serene smile. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face but hung in luscious curls down her back. He remembered all too well running his fingers through it that morning. His face was burning and he could feel her blue eyes on him. 

 

“What are you thinking about, Jon?”

 

“Whatcha mean?”

 

“You’re blushing and squirming in your seat,” she murmured, turning her head to look out the windshield. 

 

He licked his lips, concentrating on the road in front of them instead of his hand in her lap and the feel of her pressed against his side. This woman had him so spun around.

 

“I ain’t squirmin’.”

 

She chuckled. “But you admit to the blushing?”

 

“Maybe, but that’s your fault.”

 

“I’m sure it is. So, tell me. What were you thinking?” she asked, running her nails up his forearm.

 

He huffed out a breath and groaned. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout this mornin’.”

 

“I’ve been thinking about that all day.”

 

He didn’t look at her, for fear if he did he would drive back to her house, drag her inside, and do all the depraved things he could think of. Things he never would’ve entertained before her. Her forward and eager advances left his mind swirling with them.

 

“Your thoughts?” he questioned, hoping she wouldn’t crush him by now telling him it was a huge mistake. 

 

“Naughty. Every one of them.” She glanced at him this time and licked her red lips. “I suppose you think me some sort of brazen hussy the way I’m acting.”

 

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not what I was thinkin’ at all.”

 

“What were you thinking?”

 

“That everyone should be as honest as you. I know you’re still keepin’ secrets. I’m sure you have reasons.” He sighed, hoping he could explain himself and not ruin their date by putting his foot in his mouth. “I meant between a man and a woman. People like to play games, hopin’ to spark some interest from the other person and if they were just honest they could avoid a lot of trouble.”

 

She looked down at their entwined hands, squeezing his. “Speaking from experience?”

 

“Somethin’ like that,” he said as he pulled off the gravel road and into a field. She gasped seeing the bright lights of the Ferris wheel out the window. He smiled at the look of wonder on her face. “I’m sure compared to Boston it don’t amount to much...“

 

She squeezed his hand hard, eyes and smile wide when she turned to face him. “It’s wonderful! Let’s go!”

 

He helped her out and she took off but stopped when he didn't follow. “Come on,” she said, her hand held out to him. 

 

He knew this was a very important step whether she realized it or not. When people saw them together they’d assume they were  _ together _ . He took her hand and pulled her back. “I want nothin’ more than to walk through this fair with your hand in mine, but we gotta talk first.”

 

Concern filled her eyes, her head tilted as others passed them, their prying eyes watching them closely. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 

“I mighta came back from the war with a medal, but it didn’t change how these people see me. I’m still a bastard, a blot on the Stark name.” He sighed, looking at the gate. “If we go in there, hand-in-hand, that’s it. They’ll see us as a couple and people weren’t kind to the girl I was with before.”

 

She blinked at him a few times and shook her head. “I told you, Jon, I don’t care about that.”

 

“Yeah, well some a’ them might, and they  _ might _ tell you what they think a’ you. You teach most a’ these folk's youngins. It could make things real hard for you.”

 

She looked around for a moment and waited for an older couple to begin walking by before she reached out, took his hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She laughed and fished inside her purse for the handkerchief. He wiped at his cheek knowing she'd left her red lipstick on him again, muttering dark threats of retribution at her. She took none of them seriously, sniggering the whole time. 

 

“Is it gone?”

 

She nodded. “Sorry.”

 

His fixed his eyes on hers and backed her into the car behind her. “No, you ain't.”

 

She grinned. “You’re right. I’m not sorry. In fact, I could make it my mission to cover your face in my kisses before the night is through.”

 

He pressed his hands on the car, effectively trapping her. “I know you think this is funny, but it's been my life since I was a youngin’. I wanna spare you from gettin’ even a little bit of the storm that’s sure to brew.”

 

She pressed her hand to his neck, her face filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry, Jon. I didn’t mean to upset you. I forget I’m not at home where how we’re born doesn't matter much to people.” She looked down at the ground. “I didn’t mean for you to think I thought your concerns weren’t important.” Relief washed through him, she'd heard him finally. He stepped back and she tilted her head, looking at him thoughtfully. “We’re going to talk about this, though, and why all of those people are wrong.” She held her hand out to him. 

 

He swallowed thickly. “You sure?”

 

“I’m sure.” She wiggled her fingers at him. “Take my hand and if the world ends, well, we had a beautiful morning together.”

 

He blushed and took her hand in his. “We sure did.”

 

“Come on, Jon Snow, show me the fair,” she said pulling him along behind her. 

 

He bought their tickets and entered the gate. “What d’you wanna do first? Some of the rides spin you round really fast, we might wanna avoid those after we eat. There’s games. The fun house. It's full a' distorted mirrors and crooked floors.” He realized he was babbling so hushed and let her look around. 

 

She pulled him over to the Ferris wheel and got in line. “Have you ever been on it?”

 

“Yep. Arya loves it. I’ll be surprised if Rickon gets to do anythin’ else tomorrow.”

 

She smiled and squeezed his hand. “How long have Gendry and Arya been married?” 

 

“Four years? Five?” He shook his head. “They've been together so long it’s hard to remember when they weren’t.” He smiled at her. “Me and Gendry were under the same command durin’ the war. We were talkin’ ‘bout our families one night sittin' in a trench and he said his Pa was from our town. When I asked who, and he said Robert Baratheon, you coulda knocked me over with a feather.”

 

She smirked. “Why?”

 

They stepped forward in line. “That was my Uncle’s best friend. None of us knew Gendry existed.” He shrugged. “After the war, he didn’t have anywhere to go, his Ma died while he was servin’. He put himself up in the barn. We needed the extra hands in the fields and he had a truck. He saved my life during the war. When I got hit with the shrapnel, Gendry’s the one that picked me up and carried me back.”

 

She moved closer to him and squeezed his hand tighter. “I’m so very happy he did.”

 

He smiled, but let it fade quickly. “Gendry knows what it’s like to grow up feelin’ out a’ place in the world. In some ways, I relate better to him than I do Robb.” He didn’t know why he told her that. It felt entirely too intimate for a place with flashing lights and festive music playing. 

 

She squeezed his hand again and they shuffled forward in the line some more. “So, he moved in. Did he seduce Arya?”

 

Jon scoffed. “No. We knew Arya had a crush on him. At least, Robb said he knew. They hid it all from me.” He took a deep breath. “But the story Arya told us on  _ her wedding day  _ was she loved him, he loved her, so they went and got hitched.”

 

Dany’s eyes widened in surprise. “You weren’t invited?”

 

He shook his head, remembering the anger he’d felt thinking Gendry’d taken advantage of his sister. He’d wanted to kill him. “No. They went down to the courthouse and did it behind our backs. Actually,  _ she _ did it behind our backs. Gendry thought we gave permission because she lied and told him we did.”

 

“Wow, so, Arya goes after what she wants, too.”

 

They stepped forward again and Jon heaved another sigh. “Reckon she does. But she deprived us of being able to celebrate with her. Instead, she had to explain to all a’ us that she wasn’t pregnant, and Gendry hadn’t taken advantage of her. She spent most of the day apologizin’ to him for lyin’.” He shook his head and frowned. “If she’d just told the truth she coulda saved herself a headache.”

 

Dany looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Would you have approved of Gendry marrying your sister?”

 

Jon frowned. “What?”

 

“Would you have approved? Given your blessing?”

 

Jon shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t say, now.”

 

“Perhaps that’s why she didn’t tell you. You wouldn’t want to be in love with someone and the people you love to be against it. Instead of asking permission she asked for forgiveness. Sometimes it’s easier that way.”

 

He huffed out a breath, wondering if she was right. He’d hate to think that he wouldn’t have supported Arya if she’d come to him and told him she was in love with Gendry. As he said, it was hard to picture them not together now. “Maybe.” He looked at her, her blue eyes dancing in the lights. “What about your family? Your brothers. Were they married?”

 

She looked up, staring at the wheel as it slowly turned. “No. I was quite a bit younger than them. Rhae, the oldest was the one I spent the most time with. He could sing and dance and play instruments.” She sighed, her eyes falling to the ground. “He was a good man. Vis liked to throw around his name to get what he wanted, which he always did. He was excited about going to war. Thought he could find glory on the battlefield.”

 

Jon shook his head. “No glory to be found there. Just death and destruction,” he muttered.

 

She smiled sadly. “You sound like Rhae. They died within a week of each other. We’re unsure if Vis knew about Rhae when he died.” She released his hand and folded her arms over her chest. 

 

“I’m sorry, Dany.”

 

She shook her head and looked at him once more. “You can’t bring the dead back. And no amount of talking about them or mourning them changes that.”

 

“So, you ignore it completely?”

 

She shrugged and looked at the ground. “I’m not a person who can wallow, Jon. If I look back, I’m lost. I have to keep moving forward even if that physically hurts at times.”

 

He brushed his hand down her arm. “That wasn’t me judgin’ ya,” he said softly. “Just tryin’ to figure out who ya are.”

 

She lifted her head and sighed. It was their turn to climb into the bucket and he held his hand out to her to help her in.  _ How was her skin always so warm? _ He sat beside her and they were locked in and sent into the air, the little chair swinging. 

 

“I’m just going to tell you and get it out in the open,” she said. “All of my family is dead. My parents, brothers, and husband,” she told him, holding onto the bar in front of her. “It’s just me.”

 

He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it until she looked at him. “Not anymore, it’s not.”

 

She shook her head and smiled. “You know the amazing thing to me, Jon. I know, with you, that’s not a line.”

 

He blushed a little. “I ain't someone who chases after women. I don’t even know any good lines.”

 

She laughed and the weight that had settled in his chest lifted. “I know some really bad ones.” She took a deep breath and put their entwined fingers against her cheek. “I am so very glad I met you. I wasn’t looking for anyone when I came here. All the pain in my past told me I was better off alone, to focus on other things. And then I meet you and it’s like...I can breathe again.” She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. “How do you do that? How do you make someone like me lose all sense like you have?”

 

Jon’s heart raced within his chest and he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I don’t know. I don’t want this to stop, though. When I’m with you it makes all the other shit in the world seem less important. That terrifies me, to be honest.”

 

She nodded. “I’m scared, too, but I have no intention of running from it.”

 

He smiled, feeling like she was collecting the shattered pieces of his heart in her soft hands and putting it back together. “No, me neither. I’m runnin’ head first into it.”

 

*~*

 

“Ho! Jon Snow!” 

 

Jon turned at the unmistakable voice and found Tormund standing near the shooting booth. He gave a wave as he and Dany walked towards him. Brienne, Tormund’s wife, was behind him with a rifle in hand shooting at milk bottles. Unsurprisingly, she knocked them all down and the host of the booth reluctantly held out a fluffy bear.

 

“Tormund,” Jon said, shaking his hand as he approached. He tipped his hat at Brienne. “Brienne. This is Dany Storm, the new school teacher. Dany, Brienne and Tormund. They run the General Store.”

 

Brienne smiled and held her hand out to Dany and they shook hands. “You’re clearly not from around here,” she said, eyeing Dany’s fancy dress. “New York?”

 

“Boston,” Dany answered with a smile. “You’re an excellent shot.”

 

“Best in the county,” Tormund said with pride. “She likes to come to these things an show up the local rabble. Ya  _ just _ missed Ramsay and Locke.” He shook his head. “Miserable and useless, the both of em.”

 

Jon looked around, wondering at the direction the two miscreants had wandered. Probably tormenting some of the townspeople. As long as they left his family and his girl alone then there wouldn’t be a problem. God help them otherwise.

 

“You should’ve let me shoot them,” Brienne complained. “I could’ve claimed the gun went off by accident.”

 

Dany smiled. “The best shot in the county could hardly use that as cover. Maybe more like you thought you’d get a better prize by ridding the town of vermin.”

 

Brienne and Tormund smiled and looked at each other then Jon. “We like her,” Tormund proclaimed. “Make sure ya get Jon to win you one a’ these things. He’s a damn fine shot,” he added giving Jon a wink.

 

Jon felt himself blush as Dany squeezed his hand and leaned closer to him. “Yes, I think I’d like to see you win something for me.”

 

He nodded and Tormund was nudged by Brienne who gestured her head away from them. “I’m gonna let Brienne drag me on one a’ these rides. Wish me luck.”

 

Jon and Dany waved goodbye to them as they approached the booth. He paid the man and grabbed the gun, holding it steady as he aimed. With five ringing clinks, he knocked the milk bottles down in quick succession. 

 

The booth worker released a sigh but grinned. “Which one does the lady want?”

 

Dany looked around at the offerings then smiled. “The wolf.” The man handed it over to her and she grinned at Jon. “Thank you. You’re quite the shot.”

 

“Why don’t you try?” Jon asked, and took the wolf from her. 

 

“Me?” she asked surprised.

 

“Yeah. You can’t be that bad,” he teased. 

 

She frowned for a moment then nodded. Jon paid the man again and she lifted the rifle taking a quick shot, knocking down the first bottle. Then the second. For the third, she locked eyes with Jon and pulled the trigger. It fell over with a clunk. The fourth and fifth went down just the same. She placed the rifle on the table and pointed to the toy fish.

 

He stared dumbfounded as she took the wolf from him and sauntered away, smirking. Once he’d received his prize from the chuckling booth holder, he caught up with her, tucking the fish beneath his arm before he took her hand in his again. 

 

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

 

She smiled and shrugged. “My brother Rhae. He was the best and insisted I learn how. Taught me behind mother’s back.”

 

“You let me think you didn’t know how,” he said with a shake of his head. 

 

“Oh, no I didn’t. You assumed. I simply proved your assumption to be incorrect.”

 

He stopped walking and she turned to face him as he stepped closer. “What does it say ‘bout me that I’m even more attracted to you now?”

 

She grinned. “That you, my delectable Jon Snow, are a very smart man.”

 

*~*

 

“They’re havin’ a social tomorrow night for the end of the fair. Would you like to go with me?” He asked as he paid for a stick of fairy floss. The attendant passed it to Dany and she took it with a smile. 

 

“I’d love to. What happens at a  _ social _ ?”

 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, fish and wolf tucked under his arm, but smiled as she looped her free arm through his as they walked down through the game stalls. They’d gone on a few other rides since the Ferris wheel. Neither of them cared for the whirling ride, needing to sit somewhere stationary to get their bearings after. “There’s food, music, dancin’.”

 

“Do you dance?” she asked as they sat on a bench near the fun house. 

 

She tore off a piece of the confection and held it out to him. He took it and allowed it to dissolve in his mouth. It was sweet, but as he watched her eat a bite, he was reminded that nothing was as sweet as her kiss. He shook his head. “No, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

 

She nudged him with her elbow as she blushed. “You are so very charming, Jon Snow.”

 

“All an accident,” he chuckled. 

 

“Your earnest honesty. I love it. You said Arya and Rickon are coming tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah. Rickon wanted to know what  _ we’d _ talk about without him here with us,” he said with a laugh.

 

She laughed too. “Rickon is a wonderful conversationalist.”

 

“He’s a wild one.” Jon smiled. “We’ve let him just run 'round the mountain since we came home. None of us knew how to raise him. Margaery was a huge help, though.”

 

“How so?”

 

He took a deep breath and cursed himself for saying anything. “Well, when we got back, Robb and Margaery picked up where they left off. She was always ‘round and really took to takin’ care of him. He was still a baby. His Ma had only been gone a few months when we got back. Margaery was there all that time. She and Sansa were friends. So, she helped take care of him. She’d rock him, sing, feed him.” He shook his head. “That youngin' was crushed when she and Robb split.”

 

“He’s the sweetest boy, Jon. You can say he’s wild, but he does what he’s told. He’s polite and considerate. You’ve all done a wonderful job with him.”

 

He smiled. “He thinks a lot of you, too. Talks ‘bout you constantly. Told me just yesterday that you were nice, just like Miss Margaery. From Rickon, there ain't no higher praise.”

 

“How’s Bran?” she asked. “Did he like the books I gave him?”

 

He nodded and couldn't stop himself from squeezing her knee. “You made him very happy. He loves books about knights and battles.”

 

“Does he? I have more I can give him,” she said with a smile. “I love sharing books I’ve read with other people.”

 

“Me, too.”

 

“And what is your favorite book, Jon Snow?” she asked as she finished her candy floss. 

 

He tossed the stick into the garbage beside him and stood, holding out his hand to her. She took it. “I have several.  _ The Count of Monte Cristo _ ,  _ Oliver Twist _ ,  _ 2000 Leagues Under The Sea _ , just to name a few. What ‘bout you?”

 

She linked her hand through his arm again. “ _ Jane Eyre _ .”

 

“I liked that one. Didn't see the twist comin’ that he was married and hidin’ her in the house!”

 

She nodded. “I know. Jane was right to leave him.”

 

“Yep, I agree. Surprised she went back, honestly.”

 

She shrugged. “She loved him. People make excuses for the ones they love all the time. She didn’t go back, though, until she was independent enough on her own. I liked that part.”

 

He looked at her as they took the steps up into the fun house. “I can see that about you, being a woman of strong character and independent yourself.”

 

They entered the hall of mirrors and he stopped in front of one that made him look short and squatty. “Would you still like me if I looked like this?” he asked with a laugh. 

 

She shook her head and laughed. “No. Your head is too big and it’s scaring me! Next mirror,” she said as she pushed him to the next. He took her hand in his and looked at himself with incredibly long legs and a torso that was nearly non-existent. “Jon,” she giggled as she pushed at him again. He caught her around the waist and she leaned into him, her smile bright even in the darkened room. 

 

She bit her lip and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think we should get through this house and leave.”

 

He licked his lips and nodded. They didn’t stop at any more mirrors, walking through the fun house at a brisk pace. 

 

Once they made their way to the car Jon drove through town, Dany pressed against him. He slowly drug his hand from her knee along her thigh. The heat from her skin almost burned his. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, reminding himself to be patient. He counted the street lights through the center of town, the potholes that jostled them, and how many people he passed before he turned toward the school, doing his best to ignore the silky feel of her thigh beneath his fingers. When they pulled into her yard he’d never been so happy to see the front of her house darkened.

 

The second he put the car in park she was kissing him, the sweet taste of fairy floss on her tongue making him groan. With some hurried awkward fumbling they moved around enough she was able to straddle him. Then her hands unbound his hair, fingers stroking through his curls as he gripped her thighs, aching at the feel of her garters straps beneath his hands, the heat and weight of her pressed over him. He broke the kiss, moving along the column of her throat, scraping his teeth against her pulse. 

 

Her labored breaths turned into impatient mewls as she struggled with her skirt where it was pinned beneath her knees. She freed herself and Jon couldn't help but moan at the sight of her smooth creamy thighs stretched over his own. Then she unbuttoned her dress and pushed it over her shoulders, and further still, the straps of her slip going with it, and his heart stuttered at the sight of her gorgeous breasts.

 

He didn’t let himself worry about someone seeing them, the windows were so fogged he couldn’t see out and how could he give a single damn anyway when the most beautiful woman in the world was half-naked in his lap? 

 

She was rubbing against him, just like she’d done that morning, but he was determined he wouldn't lose control again. He’d take care of her proper this time. 

 

Cupping her breast in his hand he flicked his tongue over the hardening tip while sliding his other hand beneath her dress, along her silk stocking and lush thigh to her satin drawers. He stroked his thumb over her covered folds and she gasped, holding him tighter. “Jon.” Her head dropped back, her hips surging forward as he sucked on her nipple, teasing with his teeth then soothing with his tongue. 

 

She writhed against his fingers, making the most incredible sounds he’d ever heard and when he slipped beneath the satin and touched her, the scalding wet heat of her, to know she wanted him as much as he did her, it was a near thing not to lose himself completely. But he kept his course. Stroking over her folds, he slipped through the seam of her cunt to her hard little bundle of nerves, while kissing up her luscious throat, across her jaw, and to her lips.  

 

Her keening moans released into his mouth as she rubbed herself against his questing fingers, eager and greedy. He reached her entrance and growled at the feel of her tender flesh already trembling and quaking. Still using his thumb to rub circles around the tiny bud, he slowly slid one, then two inside her, groaning at how tight and hot she was wrapped around them. He couldn't begin to fathom how he would ever survive having his cock encased within her divine heat.

 

He curled his fingers and she suddenly clutched him closer, her head dropping back, her release taking her in a shaking of limbs and euphoric cries. One desperate hand gripped his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp as he rested his head against her sternum, riding it out with her. He nearly lost himself again. The scent of her arousal filled up his head while her walls pulsed around his fingers, her blissful whines teasing his ears. If the good Lord was gonna to take him, he could do it right then and he’d die a happy man.

 

When she finally calmed he gently slipped his fingers free. An aftershock shuddered through her as he grinned at the satiated look on her beautiful face. “Have I told you how much I enjoy our dates?” he questioned and she laughed. 

 

“This one isn’t over yet,” she said softly, her hands running down to the bulge at the front of his britches. 

 

He caught her wrists. “You touch me and I’ll be done.”

 

She pressed her lips to his, trailing them to his ear. “I want to make you feel as good as you just made me.”

 

Jon kissed the palm of her hand. “You did that this mornin’ and I still gotta drive home,” he chuckled, “Can’t be sittin’ out here for an hour recoverin’. It’s bad enough I’ll think of this every time I get in.”

 

“Bad is it?” she asked with a raise of her eyebrow. 

 

“Only bad in the sense I’m afraid I’ll get hard every time I climb in here.”

 

She smirked. “That would be a problem.”

 

“It would,” he said as he pulled the straps of her slip back over her shoulders, followed by the sleeves of her dress. There was something intimate about redressing her, Dany sitting back and letting him. “I’ll be here to pick you up at five tomorrow,” he said with a sheepish smile. 

 

His cheeks were flaming again, her hands cupping them as she grinned. “You are such a complicated man, Jon Snow. You just had your fingers inside me yet you blush when you tell me you’re going to pick me up for our date tomorrow.”

 

His ears felt hot enough to melt off as he finished the last button. “You get too much pleasure out of makin’ me uncomfortable.”

 

She shrugged. “There’s so much about you that brings me pleasure, Jon. If I can make you squirm a little then I will.”

 

He shook his head and met her eyes. “Tomorrow at five?”

 

She nodded then maneuvered off of him and adjusted her dress as he climbed out. He stretched and thought of his mean Aunt Cat, trying to get his body under control. It only took a few deep breaths and remembering how shrill her voice could be to pull himself together. He walked around the car to open her door and helped her out, grabbing her two prizes for her. She didn’t release his hand as he walked her to the door, unlocking it before turning to him. “Do I at least get a good night kiss?”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her and grinned. “You’re tryin’ to kill me.”

 

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t do that. Tease you mercilessly, though?”

 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Her tongue ran across them and he opened his mouth to her with a groan, only breaking away a few moments later for his own sanity. He handed over the stuffed wolf and fish, which she held tightly. “You always make me feel like I’m runnin’ away from this place,” he said with a laugh as he stepped back and off the porch. 

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jon,” she laughed before disappearing behind her door, then waving from the front room window. 

 

He waved back and climbed into the car. He hardly paid attention to the road as he drove back to the mountain. Everything about their day together leaving him in a pleasant fog. Her scent still lingered in the car and he could see a distinct handprint on his window. He’d have to remove that before one of the others saw it. They’d never let him live it down. But as he pulled up to the house, Robb and Margaery were sitting on the porch. He groaned, wishing he had seen it sooner.

 

He did the best he could before he brought the car to a stop in front of the house. They were both smiling too much for his liking and he hadn’t even got out yet. Once he did Robb began outright laughing. 

 

“What the hell you laughin’ at?”

 

Margaery bit her lip and looked away. “Nice date?”

 

“Exceptional. Why is he laughin’?”

 

“Did she have on red lipstick?” Margaery questioned. 

 

He closed his eyes and groaned. “How bad is it?”

 

Margaery finally hit Robb on the arm. “You're going to wake up the boys, hush!” She looked back at Jon, her eyes sparkling in the porch light. “All over your lips and neck. Even some on your collar.” Jon wanted to sink into the ground. “So, how  _ was _ your date?” she asked.

 

“I told you–”

 

“Yes, exceptional. But details are needed if you come home looking like that,” she teased. 

 

He escaped into the house, but they both followed him. “You’ve had your fun, knock it off,” he hissed.

 

“We all gonna get to meet her fore you run off and get hitched?” Robb’s loud whisper cut through the room.

 

Jon heaved a sigh and glared at him. “When you stop bein’ an ass.”

 

“So,  _ never _ ?” Margaery said with a smile. 

 

“See, Robb. She’s too smart for you,” Jon said as he waved at them both. “Night. Try to keep it down. Some of us need to sleep.”

 

“We’ll just use the car like you did,” Robb snickered.

 

“There ain't enough room in there for your head,” he shot back before slipping into his room and shutting the door. He could still hear them laughing from the other room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what did you think? Did you like it? Want more? Let us know down in the comments!


	8. When That Love Calls, Open Up Your Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany attend the town social and shit hits the fan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!!! Thanks go to the beautiful and talented Meisie for betaing this chapter for us. She's a peach. You should all go read her stuff. 
> 
> The gorgeous mood board for this chapter was made by the so fuckin' talented Justwanderingneverlost. HEAP PRAISE ON HER!
> 
> To our other gorgeous tarts, FrostBitePanda, Jaqtkd, and Sparkles59 thank you for your never-ending support on this story. It is greatly appreciated.
> 
> This chapter is brought to you by the song "Storm Comin'" by the Wailin Jenny's. (Ashley here) When I was writing this chapter, I admit that I had this song on repeat. 
> 
>  
> 
> **REMINDER: Fic writers don't get paid. It's just a fact of life. The only way we know that our efforts here are appreciated is through comments. This isn't just on our fic. We know how many hits we're getting per chapter, but the hits and comments aren't even almost coinciding with one another. I know from other fics writers, not just the tarts, that comments have dropped off. My question is: why? If you read something, leave a comment. Let those people know that you love their work. It's not hard. Most of us only bite if asked! So, do yourself a favor, go make a fic writer's day by letting them know you love their writing. Most of us salivate over those comments. We treasure them, hoard them, hold them close PRECIOUS! So, please, be kind, leave a comment. On all the fics you read. We see you lurking. Come out of hiding and let us LOVE YOU!!!**

  **DANY**

__ When that storm comes, don't run for cover   
When that storm comes, don't run for cover   
When that storm comes, don't run for cover   
Don't run from the coming storm, no there ain't no use in running   
  
When that rain falls, let it wash away   
When that rain falls, let it wash away   
When that rain falls, let it wash away   
Let it wash away, that falling rain, the tears and the troubles   
  
When those lights flash, 

_ and you hear that thunder roar   
When those lights flash,  _

_ and you hear that thunder roar   
When those lights flash,  _

_ and you hear that thunder roar   
Will you listen to that thunder roar and let your spirits soar _

__

__ When that love calls, open up your door   
When that love calls, open up your door   
When that love calls, open up your door   
  
You gotta stand on up and let it in, you gotta let love through your door

__

_ Storm Comin’  
**Wailin’ Jennys** _

****

Seated beside Jon at a long table, Dany couldn’t help but smile as he held her hand in his lap, hidden beneath the tablecloth. They, along with a large portion of the town were all inside a huge barn. The only place big enough in all the county to hold the social. It had been cleaned out of all its usual occupants, no animals, tractors, plows, or sacks of seed to be found. There were bales of hay lined against the walls and around the dance floor for people to sit on. It was fresh, filling the space with its sweet earthy smell. Lights were strung too, crisscrossed among the massive beams overhead and a band played over in one corner. 

She’d worried her dress was too ostentatious for this simple town, but the smoldering look Jon had given her when he picked her up told her it was well received, by him at least. She liked making him tongue-tied, almost as much as making him blush. But she had seen something else in him. He did take control when he wanted and she was more than willing to let him have it. She was the one chasing him, but in those moments when he let go of propriety and took her mouth in a forceful kiss or touched her in a way that would make most people blush, she relished in it. 

“So, Jon Snow, what do I not know about you that I should?” He tilted his head, his cheeks pinking up after a moment. She leaned close. “Tell me,” she whispered.

He glanced at her, then back at his plate of food, squeezing her hand. She felt like he might have been drawing strength from it. “I snore.”

She chuckled. “That is something I need to know.” She stretched up until her lips were at his ear and breathed, “I sleep naked.”

He slowly turned his head to fully look at her, his dark eyes gone black, his breathing accelerated. He swallowed. “All the time?”

She nodded and shrugged. “I’m hot natured.” He licked his lips, frowning. She watched him close his eyes, his pretty mouth mumbling something. “Jon?”

“I’m thinkin’ ‘bout my Aunt Cat,” he said, eyes still shut tight.

She tilted her head in confusion. “Why?”

His soft full lips and scruffy beard were suddenly tickling her ear. “I fear if I don’t, I’ll pull you into my lap and mess you up,” he rasped, “Right here in front a’ all these people.”

She suppressed a shiver, turning her face into his and trailed her thumb over his palm in slow circles. “Is it working?”

He sat back and shook his head, looking vexed. “No. All I can think about is our fishin’ trip and  _ not _ the fishin’ part.”

She hummed her approval, biting back a smirk. “I liked the bit in the car last night when your fingers were inside me,” she told him, keeping her voice soft and quiet.

The sound he made was more of a growl than a groan and the look he gave her had her rubbing her thighs together. His dark gaze was searing her skin, the shiver she’d held back earlier finally overtaking her. He stood abruptly and held his hand out. “Let’s dance.”

“Ah, The Bastard of Winter’s Peak,” came a smooth voice behind them. Dany turned, ready to put whoever it was in their place for being so rude, but there was a smile on Jon's face as he turned around.

“The Dwarf of Casterly Estate,” he said. The man smiled as well, lifting his hand up. “Tyrion,” Jon greeted him, as he shook it.

With his appearance and name, Dany knew who stood in from of them: Tyrion Lannister, last son of Tywin Lannister. She’d been told he was a dwarf, so that wasn't surprising to her. What was a surprise was the kinship that seemed to exist between Tyrion and Jon. 

The small man turned his attention to her and his eyebrows rose with interest. “My, my the rumors around town don’t do you justice, my dear.”

Jon spoke then. “Dany, this is Tyrion Lannister. Tyrion, Miss Dany Storm.”

“I can already tell you’re far too good for this town,” he said as he placed a kiss on the back of her hand. She smiled at him, wary as he looked at Jon once more. “It’s good to see you off your mountain, Snow.”

Jon winced a bit, scratching at his beard. “Don’t like town much.”

Tyrion nodded sadly, a similar expression to Jon’s passing over his face. “We’re alike in that way. Still, it’s good to see you.” He turned his gaze back to Dany. “Make sure you get him to dance.”

She nodded. “He had just asked me,” she remarked, squeezing Jon’s hand.

“Ah, splendid!” Tyrion exclaimed, his smile over bright. “Don’t let me keep you, then.”

They all nodded their goodbyes and Jon escorted her out to the dance floor. She was used to the Charleston or the Peabody, dancing until all hours of the morning in the nightclubs of Boston. Jazz bars and dancing had been her life for so long she almost forgot not every place was the same. But Jon had pulled her close, their bodies pressed together. One of his hands was spread over her lower back, sending warm tingles through her skin. The other held hers up at their shoulders as he gently swayed them to the music. She didn't miss the dances of her past in the least.

“I thought you weren’t friendly with the Lannisters.”

Jon glanced over at Tyrion where he sat beside a young man, watching the dancers, clapping along with the music.

“Tyrion’s different. The town tends to treat him as cruel as they do me.” He took a deep breath. “Fore I went off to war, he told me all dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes, and somethin’ else that stuck with me.  _ Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you. _ ”

“But it still hurts you,” she said softly.

“Yes, lass, it does. For my family’s sake, it’ll always hurt.” He must have decided that the conversation was growing too serious. He gave her a smile and held her a bit closer. “Tell me something about you I should know,” he said softly, those big brown eyes trying to sort the secrets of her soul.

Her breath hitched, her pulse throbbing painfully in her throat. There was so much, and she wasn't sure which parts to tell him. If he knew it all, he may change his mind about her, declare she wasn’t worth the baggage and potential damage that came with her and run from her, far and fast. He’d only been in her life a short time, but just the thought of losing him gutted her. She looked up into the inky depths once more and found them full of longing, adoration, and even acceptance. Her heart flipped over, the force of it nearly making her stumble. 

_ He loved her. And she loved him. _

It had all happened so fast, maybe too fast to be sensible, but she knew. Could feel it, see it. Jon wasn’t going anywhere. It was time to tell him as much as she could. 

Dany drew in a deep breath, steadying her nerves, and relaxed into his embrace. “I told you my father owned speakeasies in Boston. There were three of them. The biggest and best the city had to offer. Jazz clubs, we called them.” She smiled as he spun her away and then right back in his arms to sway again. “My life revolved around those clubs. I would wake around four in the afternoon, visit my mother for dinner, and then spend the rest of the night in one of the clubs.”

“Where was your husband?” he questioned, his voice a low soft rumble in her ear.

“He managed them. He was at one of the three every night. I would go too, have fun with my friends, socialize with my father's, keep up appearances. Drogo was always there, keeping a close eye on me, making sure people left me alone.”

His brow creased, and his hand squeezed hers a bit tighter. “Were you in danger?”

She sighed and nodded. “I simply didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

He pulled back a bit, looking down at her, his frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

She stopped their swaying, sliding her hand down his back. “Will you come outside with me? So we can sit and talk?” He nodded and she pulled him through the crowd and out into the fresh night air, around to the side of the barn. 

She took a seat on a bale of hay that had been covered with a blanket. They were alone, thank goodness. It wouldn't be an easy conversation. Jon took his coat off and placed it around her shoulders before sitting down and taking her hands in his. Her heart swelled. He had such a tender soul, she didn't know what she’d done to deserve him. She sent up a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening that she wasn't about to lose him and took a deep breath. He squeezed her hands, comforting and encouraging her. It was time, there was no going back, only forward.

“I told you my entire family was dead, what I didn't say was none them died of natural causes. I was organizing the memorial for my brothers, so I wasn’t at the club or my parent’s house that night. The only people who knew where I was were my husband and my best friend. She was helping me plan the memorial.”

She looked down at their hands and took her strength from him. She could do this. She could tell him. “When we finished, I went to have dinner with my mother. I should have known something was wrong when I got there. My father always kept guards posted outside. I learned later that someone had driven by and fired shots at the house and they gave chase,” she said as she shook her head. “It was only a diversion, they were ambushed on the road.”

A soft rush of air left him and he squeezed her hands again. “Dany, you don’t have to do this now if you don’t want.”

She closed her eyes, resisting the urge to fall into him, to take his offer and stay silent. But shook her head. “I need to do this. You deserve to know,” she whispered and glanced up to find him looking at their hands, his thumbs stroking hers. He licked his lips and nodded. 

“The door was left open, which wasn’t odd to me, at first. But when I went in, my beautiful mother... she was lying at the bottom of the steps. I thought she’d fallen, but when I got to her, I saw the blood… The back of her head was...” Swallowing thickly, she tried to control her tears. She shook herself and concentrated on the smooth steady stroke of his thumbs over her skin. “My father was sitting in his chair in his study. I rushed to him, but he was just as lost to me as she was. He’d been tied to it. His throat slit.” She sucked in a great breath of air, refusing to let the cries bubbling within her free. “I didn’t even realize I was screaming until the police came in. They questioned me, told me they’d found the guards’ car two blocks away full of bullet holes.” 

The last part was nearly impossible to speak aloud. She hadn't in years, but Jon scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her. She turned her face into his chest and let the words free. “Another cop came in and told me...told me that Drogo, my husband, had been shot. They tried to save him, but it was too late. He was gone. I don't remember anything else until I woke up in the hospital in excruciating pain.” Jon pressed his face to her hair as she trembled against him, her heart aching. “I...I was having a miscarriage.” It was his turn to heave a gasping breath. But he stilled for only a moment before holding her tighter, kissing the top of her head. The rest, the last, rushed out of her, “All the stress of what happened, it was too much, my body just couldn't handle it.”

His hands ran over her back in soothing circles as he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Dany. I’m so sorry.” 

She allowed herself to cling to him for a time, to let him help ease her pain. She’d carried it all alone for so long. She hadn't had a choice, but now she had Jon, and he knew what it was like to lose those you love. There would be no judgment from him.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, just holding each other. He didn't prod for more, but there was more she had to tell him. She pulled away, needing to look him in the eye, needing him to see her. He let her go, reluctantly, and she took his hands back in hers. “I’m sorry I couldn't be truthful before this, but now that you know why I couldn’t…” She swallowed and licked her lips, gathering her last bit of courage. “My name isn’t really Dany Storm. It’s Daenerys Targaryen,” she whispered. “But I  _ need _ to be Dany Storm. For now.”

He sat back a bit, his brow creased deeply with worry and concern. But something else shone in his eyes, a knowing maybe as if he’d already known her secrets and was grateful she’d voiced them at last. Finally, he nodded, firm and sure. “I won’t tell anyone.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I know you won’t. I trust you, Jon. I wouldn't have told you all of that if I didn't.”

He looked down at their hands again, then raised them to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. It was a long moment before he lifted his head and looked at her again. It took all she had not to cry at his sweetness. “I’m so sorry you had to endure any of it,” he whispered.

Dany raised a hand to his cheek. “We all have our crosses to bear, you have yours, this is mine. I think maybe we’re both stronger for them.”

He didn’t agree or disagree, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her again instead. She couldn't help but be soothed, by his scent, the strength of him, the love she knew he had for her even if he hadn't said it out loud yet. It felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She hadn’t told him everything, but he knew enough now, she didn’t feel she was outright lying about her past. And he was safe. They couldn't hurt him if he didn't know the rest.

“I can take you home if you want.” His voice was soft and deep, his hands rubbing over her back. He was the perfect balm to her soul. 

She shook her head and sat back. “Not yet, but when you do take me home, I want you to consider staying,” she told him with a gentle smile. His eyes widened and her smile grew as another rush of pink colored his pale cheeks. She stood and held out her hand to him. “But I want to dance with you some more first.”

He smiled and took her hand. “At least three seems proper.”

She looped her hand around his elbow and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Three is perfect.”

Jon led her back to the dance floor and she was once more in his arms where she belonged. He smelled of whiskey and trees. She wanted that smell around her the rest of the night, in her bed, covering her sheets. He stopped suddenly and heaved out a breath. “Wait here, Gendry’s wavin’ me down.”

She turned to see Gendry’s truck backed up to the entrance. Arya was inside the cab and Jon was already helping Gendry unload crates of what she was sure was moonshine. She shook her head. It was rather brazen of them to do it in front of the sheriff, but then she spotted the man in question walking towards them from the other side of the barn, a smile on his face. It did help when the law was on your side. 

Dany turned, intent on getting more lemonade and walked directly into someone. She rushed to apologize until her wrist was caught in a cruel grip, the offender not stepping back. “Ah, Miss Storm. I’ve been meaning to  _ bump _ into you.” Her skin crawled as she tried to pull away from her captor, Ramsay Bolton. “My, you do smell delicious. Whatever is that scent?”

“Take your hands off of me,” she said, her voice low and threatening. 

His blue eyes narrowed on her but the sinister smile never left his face. “That’s hardly ladylike. Seems to me, your parents failed to teach you manners and how to speak to a gentleman.”

“You’re no gentleman. Now, I’ll say it again, take your hands  _ off _ of me,” she hissed, trying to wrench herself free. He pulled back, only to let her go, and she stumbled into someone else. She didn’t recognize the man, but soon realized he must be with Ramsay. His gaze was too perverse for him not to be.

This one had even fewer manners than Ramsay, his arms snaking around her waist, one hand sliding up to grope her breast. “You were right, my boy, pretty as a peach,” he whispered in her ear, sending a sickening shiver down her spine, the sharp bite of liquor on his foul breath turning her stomach.

She scanned the crowd for help, for a familiar face, but everyone was lost in their dancing or conversation. Jon was nowhere to be seen, even Davos was too far away. She could scream, but they were smart enough for that. Certain to release her, to look innocent. Then she would be worse off, everyone left to think she was the crazy one. 

“What can I say, Mister Locke, I certainly know how to pick em,” Ramsay purred, stepping closer, trapping her between them.

She closed her eyes and shoved back against Locke’s chest with all her strength, then was suddenly spun around and out of his arms. She fell against a hard chest, but she knew that smell and nearly collapsed against Jon in relief as his hands gripped her upper arms tight. 

Held against his chest, she spotted Gendry’s stocky form menacing Locke into the corner. 

“Dany?” She looked up and  _ her _ Jon had lost all of the sweetness in and around his eyes. Instead, they were shining with rage, black as boiling tar. “You alright?” he whispered, a strained roughness seeping through and into his voice.

She nodded and gripped his shirt in her hand. She didn’t want him to fight, even if Ramsay deserved it. 

“Fraternizing with Snow?” Ramsay tsked behind her. “I thought maybe you’d have better taste, Miss Storm.”

She turned her head to look at him, fury filling her belly. She longed to slap the smug look off of his face. “Funny, I’m not surprised at all that someone like  _ you _ doesn't have better manners.”

“You know, he’s the laughing stock of this town,” he continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. Everyone was watching them, now, the music and cacophony of voices having died to only a murmur of shuffles and whispers. “His whore of a mother couldn’t even give him her family name. He’s nothin’ but a black stain on the Stark family tree.”

Jon tensed against her, his fury feeding hers. She turned around, the full force of her anger focused on Ramsay. “Fancy clothes and greased hair do not make you a reputable sort.  _ You _ are the black stain of this town. As I’ve heard it in the little time I’ve been here, women don’t fair well around you.”

His smile faltered. “Rumor and gossip for a young girl’s poor decision,” he scoffed.

“So, you admit you were a  _ poor _ decision?”

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “I admit nothing.”

“Of course not. I’ve met men like you. They were bigger, stronger, smarter, but just as arrogant. And just like you, they were nothing. You're nothing, your words are nothing. Everyone in this town knows exactly who and what you are, Ramsay Bolton.” She reached behind her and Jon slipped his hand into hers, pulling her back to his side. “Even the shit Jon scrapes from his boots is better than you.”

Ramsay smiled, it was pure evil, but there was a desperation glinting in his eyes as well. He licked his lips and sniffed. “And yet, here I stand. The  _ legitimate _ son of a powerful and wealthy man. I run a legal business. I can afford to feed whatever family I might desire.” He tilted his head, sneering at her. “But that certainly won’t be you. I would never sully myself to court a bastard’s whore.” He leaned close, his eyes narrowed as he whispered, “Let alone stoop to fuck you.”

It all seemed to happen in slow motion then. Jon was no longer at her side, but taking a vicious swing at Ramsay. His fist connected with flesh and bone, an unsettling crunch filling the air. Ramsay was sent sprawling across the floor while Gendry elbowed a charging Locke in the abdomen, then nose. He crumbled to his knees where Arya loomed over him, her gun in his bloody face. Then Jon was on top of Ramsay, the echoes of his punches bouncing off the wooden walls of the barn as he pummeled his face with one fist, then the other, blood splattering across the dusty floor like ink spilled from a jar.

“What’s the meaning of this!? Jon!” Sheriff Davos hollered, running towards them, shoving townsfolk out of his way. 

Arya moved away from Locke and back towards the truck. Her gun had conveniently vanished. And Jon, it was as if the storm that had been raging within him suddenly passed and he collected himself. He stood up, chest heaving, and Dany immediately went to him and grabbed his wrist. His pulse was throbbing quick as a rabbit under her fingertips. 

“What happened?” Davos asked again.

Jon didn’t speak, neither did Gendry. Locke did though, pointing a furious finger towards Arya. “That little girl pulled a gun on me.”

Davos signaled to Arya and it was then Dany saw a familiar little face staring out the back window of the truck with wide eyes.  _ Rickon, the poor babe! _ Arya said something to him before she climbed out and walked back over to them. 

“Alright now, what started this?” Davos barked.

Daenerys wasn’t about to let Jon and Gendry get in trouble for helping her. She jumped in before they could speak. “I was being harassed, Sheriff. Mister Bolton grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go after I asked him to, twice, and then this man,” she said through gritted teeth, pointing to Locke, “had his hands all over me. Jon and Gendry were just trying to get them to let me go.”

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. She'd always been able to cry on command, for once the skill proved useful. She turned into Jon’s chest and gave a muffled sob. He lifted his arms, wrapping them around her protectively and she took solace in him. Even if the tears weren’t real, her anxiety was. She needed him, there was nothing fake about that.

Davos looked at Ramsay, still unconscious on the ground, then at Locke. “Jon, you take her home,” he ordered. His old blue eyes turned to Gendry and Arya. “You two get little Rickon home.” When neither man moved, he shouted, “Now!”

“You’re gonna let them leave?” Locke protested.

“You’re lucky I’m not arrestin’ the two of ya for gropin’ her!” he snarled at Locke, making it clear to everyone who he was siding with. 

Daenerys’ heartbeat finally began to slow as Jon escorted her back to the car. But her anger hadn't. She and Jon had been having a good night, growing closer, and those two jackasses had ruined it. She wanted to march back in there and kick them with her pointy heels. Instead, she pushed that aside and focused on Jon. 

He wasn’t touching her and a dark sullen mask had replaced his smile. He wouldn't even look at her. She caught his wrist as he opened the door for her. When his eyes met hers, she felt her heart break at the pain and sorrow she saw in them. _ No. You don’t get to pull away from me now! _

She reached up and stroked his cheek. His eyes fell closed as he took a deep shuddering breath. “Jon, please…” she whispered. 

He took her hand in his and squeezed it, nodding his head towards the car. “Let me take you home.” 

She barely caught the words he’d spoken so quietly. It was a near thing, not allowing herself to grab him, shake him, make him see what he was doing. But she couldn't do that to him, not there, where so many prying eyes were watching them from the barn. He’d protected her, she had to do the same for him. She got in the car.

The ride back to her house was acutely silent, so much so she felt sick with it, as if a heavy smothering weight had been laid over her, trapping her, stealing her air. Jon hadn’t spoken, hadn't reached for her hand since he’d gotten in the car. When she’d tried to move closer to him, he’d pressed himself against the door. Fear was beginning to grip her, clawing at her heart, telling her what a fool she’d been. But she refused to listen. She was not going to lose Jon. She was determined he was hers. Had told him so. Nothing that had happened that night changed anything for her. 

When they reached her house, he pulled into the backyard. He’d never done that before. She wanted to believe it was because he meant to stay, like she'd asked him to, but she knew that wasn't what it meant at all. She climbed up the steps, Jon following behind her as they walked through her screened-in back porch to the door. She unlocked it, cursing her trembling hands, but got them inside and the kitchen light switched on.

She glanced back at him and feared she might actually cry, the lump in her throat and her burning eyes fighting hard to break through her usual tough facade at seeing him so despondent.

She turned and took his wrists, lifting them to examine his bloodied knuckles. “Sit, let me clean you up,” she told him softly, nodding at the kitchen table. Thankfully he did as she asked and she walked to the cabinets and pulled out the few things she needed. 

When she turned back he was still so silent, so beaten, her chest ached. The past few days Jon had let his walls down, let her see him, and every moment of it had been wonderful. That Jon was nowhere to be seen now. He had closed himself off, was maybe even pulling away from her completely. The thought shook her to her core. She wouldn't let him, couldn't. For his sake as well as her own. 

_ When had she, how had she let herself fall so hard? So quickly?  _

It didn't matter, she had and she wasn't going to let him slip away from her. She joined him at the table, scooting her chair close enough to put her legs between his. He sat up a bit straighter, shifting so they didn't touch and Dany had to bite her lip not to protest. 

Handling him as carefully as a spooked horse she took his right hand in hers and surveyed the damage, then the left. Nothing looked broken, but he would definitely be bruised and sore for several days.

His jaw stayed clenched tight as she gently cleaned him up. He only hissed once as she dabbed at the bloodied cuts.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, blowing on them to ease the pain. She added ointment to them, keeping her touch gentle, then wrapped each in gauze and tied it off. 

As soon as she finished he pulled his hand back, and his chair too, the grating of metal against linoleum startling her. She grabbed his arm, her heart seized with panic. “You’re leaving?” 

Jon lowered his head, his thick black lashes brushing his pale cheekbones. “I think it’d be best if I did,” he finally said, his voice no more than a hushed murmur. 

“Best for who?” she asked softly. “Not either of us, I know that.”

He shook his head. “You heard what Ramsay said, he was–”

  
She was on her feet in an instant. “I have no use for Ramsay! Or for a single word that comes out of his filthy mouth!” she snapped before she could stop herself, the rage she’d felt earlier in the night swelling up to grab her. But Jon winced and it disappeared like a whiff of smoke. Scolding herself, she cupped his face in her hands, drawing his dark soulful eyes to hers. “I don’t care what anyone in this town thinks of me, Jon. I’ve said it before and I meant it. I truly don’t.” She ran a thumb over his cheek. “None of them matter to me, only you. Please don't go.”

When he didn't speak or respond she lowered her lips to his, hoping she could make it clear with just a kiss that she wanted him to stay. That she wanted  _ him _ .  _ Needed _ him. But he broke away and stood, the war within him sending a shadow across his eyes and breaking her heart.

At that moment she wanted every person that had ever hurt him within her grasp just so she could strangle them all. She’d never met a sweeter soul than Jon, no one deserved their judgment less. Taking his hand she led him to the living room. She wouldn't let him leave like this. If he still decided it was best to leave it would be only  _ after _ she was certain he knew that he was all that mattered to her, nothing and no one else. 

She walked them over to her record player and turned it on, setting the needle gently on the spinning vinyl. Gertrude Lawrence began singing softly through the room and Dany turned and stepped up to Jon, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and taking his hand in hers. 

He looked down at her, brows pulled up in question, standing stiff. “What’re you doin’?”

“You promised me three dances tonight, I only got two. You’re a man who keeps his promises, Jon Snow. Isn't that right?” she whispered, her voice cracking. She was truly on the verge of tears at the thought he would allow the poison that spewed from an ass like Ramsay to keep him from being with her.

The tension in his body released with a huff, his eyes rolling before meeting hers. “You don’t play fair.”

“Of course I do. I’m on your side Jon,” she whispered. “Just yours and mine.”

He let his head fall gently to hers, eyes closed and breathed deeply through his nose. “Why? Why ain't you worried? Why don't you care? I’m no good for you. You deserve bet–”

She smacked his shoulder soundly and his head popped up. She didn't let his scowl deter her. “I get to decide who and what is good for me, and what I deserve. I’ve made my choice, Jon.  _ You're _ my choice.”

So many emotions danced across his face, within his eyes, but he couldn't seem to find any words to put to them. Dany pulled him closer, laying her head against his chest and soon his grip tighten around her waist. He began to sway, his cheek to her hair. 

Relief rushed through her, leaving her shaky and weak. She pressed herself closer to him. “I learned a long time ago that it’s more important to believe in myself than to have complete strangers assume I’m a good person,” she said quietly. “I know you, Jon. You’re possibly the best man I’ve ever known. The people that  _ know _ you say the same,” she whispered and looked up at him. “ _ Their _ opinions should matter some. Yours should matter most. And I realize I’ve got my work cut out for me, to convince you that you’re better than what some shitty people in this town say, but I’ll apply myself to the challenge every day just so you can see one small sliver of what I see in you.”

He stared at her for the longest time, spinning slowly as they swayed, until he stilled, the battle he was fighting coming back to cloud his eyes. Her stomach lurched. She slid her hands around his neck, holding him to her as he started to step away. Then the front of his shirt was gripped in her fists, as she rose up on her toes and brushed her lips against his. “Stay. Please,” she whispered. “I love you, Jon. Stay with me.”

They froze as one, there in the middle of her living room, neither seeming to breathe as they stared into each other's eyes. She hadn't meant to say it yet and wasn't sure if the sudden terror that had seized her was because she’d actually meant it, or that she’d possibly just ruined everything. 

Jon's eyes fell closed and he took a step back, letting her go. The ache in her chest grew nearly unbearable. She hung her head, willing herself not to cry until he left. She’d lost everyone she’d ever loved and survived, she could do it again if she had to. 

His boots hurried away from her, each heavy step a blow to her heart, but then they stopped. He was at her kitchen door, his head hung low, hands worrying the air at his sides, his plump lips pressed into a tight line. He reached for the doorknob and she bit back a cry. Or maybe she hadn't. His head snapped up and he was looking at her now. Even across two rooms, she could see the pain glistening in his dark eyes. She wanted to run to him, to beg, to plead, anything to keep him from walking out her door. 

But she didn't have to. In long purposeful strides, Jon crossed the room and pulled her against him with desperate grasping hands. “God help me, I love you too,” he panted, the words light as air, but so full of his heart her own burst in her chest as his hungry mouth found hers. 

Once he let her breathe again, she gave a happy laugh as his arms gathered her up, lifting her feet from the floor. She never wanted to let him go but did long enough to guide him back towards her bedroom once he allowed her back to her feet. Her lips only left his to get his shirt over his head. It landed with a whisper on her hallway floor. Then he picked her up. Her breath caught at the heat in his eyes as he carried her the short distance to the bedroom and gently laid her on the bed then joined her, pressing his body along hers, wrapping himself around her.

It felt as if he were trying to absorb her into his very soul and every inch of her throbbed with love and want for him to the point hot tears pricked behind her eyes. She held tight to him, rubbing his back, running her fingers through his silky curls as his breathing began to calm.

Then his soft lips and scratchy beard mouthed at her neck, taking slow kisses of her sensitive skin, his warm breath sending a shiver through her. “I’m so fuckin’ in love with you,” he whispered.

She laughed again, her heart overfull hearing him declare it in such a way. She urged him out of hiding, cupping his sweet face in her hands as she smiled up at him. “Glad to know I’m not the only one who's so lost so quickly.”

His smile was the dearest thing she'd ever seen. He turned into her hand and kissed her palm before gazing down at her again. “I won't let you get lost. I got ya...if you got me.”

Dany had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling. She brushed her fingertips over his eyebrow and down his cheek to his sweet smile, giving herself time to gather her voice. “I’ve got you, and I'm never letting go,” she whispered.  

“Good, cause I ain't either,” he rasped, dropping his lips to hers and kissing her softly. 

He continued his kisses, over her cheek, up to her ear, then down her neck. She hummed in contentment while his fingers began working the buttons of her dress, popping them open with surprising speed. She shimmied out of it, leaving her in her slip, stockings, garter belt, and drawers. The thud of Jon’s boots hitting the floor echoed through the room, one, then the other. She kicked her heels off as well. He tugged her slip off her shoulders and rose to his knees to pull it the rest of the way off.

His hands ran slowly up her legs, his touch feather light. She lifted one, giving him access to the garter clip at the back of her thigh. Watching him, the heat in his eyes, those full lips bruised pink and still wet from their kisses, the feel of his calloused hands against her skin. It was too much, the heat growing within her belly grew and grew, the ache between her thighs turning liquid and hot. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breath quickening.  

“I think I’ve decided somethin’,” he said, both of his hands running down the length of her leg, dragging the first stocking off. 

“What have you decided?” she breathed, her heart fluttering like a bird in a cage as he picked up her other leg with careful hands and rested her foot against his chest. 

He popped the other garter straps loose and freed her from the stocking. “I like unwrapping you best,” he declared, his voice rough as a gravel road and deep as a slow river, twisting her insides near to breaking.

She bit back a whimper as he tugged at her garter belt and she lifted her hips, clenching her thighs and cunt tight, anything to ease the molten pressure as he pulled it off. Her silky drawers went next, drawn ever so slowly from her hips and down her legs. He stopped abruptly at her knees and her eyes flew open, finding his head cocked to the side. His eyes darted to hers, his eyebrows raised. He moved back over her, looming, his hand skimming up her leg before slipping into the downy hairs at her cunt. “Somethin’ you want to tell me?”

She wiggled beneath his touch, pressing her feet to the bed to raise her hips, hoping she could get him to move lower still. But as his eyes stared into hers, he hadn’t moved his attention. She furrowed her brow, confused momentarily until realization dawned on her. She felt her cheeks flame and gave him a small smile. “I dye my hair.”

He nodded, “I noticed. Why?” His fingers slid lower causing her to moan. She pressed her head back against her pillow, her lip trapped between her teeth as his fingertips made lazy circles around her entrance, his touch light enough to make her crazy with want for him. But when she was slow to answer, he withdrew his hand. “Why Dany?”

She captured his wrist before he went too far. “To blend in. I wanted to blend in,” she panted.

He shook his head and huffed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. You couldn't blend in if you tried, you're the damn sun,” he breathed against her lips. 

His tongue slipped across hers and she moaned into his mouth as his fingers returned to their teasing. He broke the kiss, drawing back to watch her as he played. Her hips moved in sync with his fingers as they danced her along the edge but never pushing her over it. 

“I don't think I can imagine you with blonde hair.”

She managed to pull her eyes open. He still looked perplexed. “I doubt I’ll let it go back anytime soon,” she panted. “Don't worry.”

“I ain't worried, just tryin’ to picture it is all.”

“How about you try later?”

His cheeks pinked up more than they already were and he ducked his head, mumbling an apology, before shifting her leg and moving to hover between her thighs. Her hands roamed the smooth expanse of pale skin covering his chest and sides, the feel of sinewy muscles moving beneath her touch pulling a groan from her throat. His lips latched onto the hardened peak of her breast and her groans turned to whimpers, the little flicks and nips of his tongue and teeth causing her to press harder against his fingers, wanting more, needing it. 

“Jon.”

He grunted, moving to take her other nipple with this mouth. The tender touch of his fingers, the heat of his clever tongue, the scrape and drag of his scruffy beard against her skin had her shifting anxiously beneath him. She needed more but wanted to prolong her perfect agony as well.

Her fingers traced up his spine then into his coal-black curls, dancing through them as his kisses moved lower, over ribs and belly, then further still. He placed one to each hip bone, his hands slipping beneath her thighs and a thrill flashed through her. _Surely_ _he wasn't..._ She leaned up on her elbows to see him duck his head again, this time to swipe against her folds with his tongue. Unable to swallow it down, she cried out at the pleasure of it, her thighs quivering and clamping his head in place.

Jon only growled as she imagined one of their wolves might, and had another taste of her, and then another. It took all she had to keep still against the onslaught. 

Her husband had scoffed at offering her such an indulgence. She should've known Jon Snow would have no such qualms. For just a moment she thought she should be ashamed of how wet she already was for him, but she couldn't be bothered. His groans as he spread her open with his thumbs and traced his tongue around her entrance was proof enough he relished in her response. Her head dropped back as he continued to tease and torment, her breathing once again being tested. She rolled her hips against his hungry mouth, wanting more. But Jon wouldn’t be rushed. A strong arm came across her hips, pinning her to the bed, then a finger joined his tongue, tracing along her swollen slit before it slipped inside, sliding in so slowly she was ready to thump him with her heels. She gave a frustrated whine and bucked against his hold instead.

His finger quickly disappeared. “Impatient,” he growled before pulling her clit into his mouth. She gasped, the eager suckling, then frenzied flicks of his tongue, stealing her breath with such skill she was astonished. He was building her up, higher and higher and she knew when she fell she would crash back to earth so hard she might never recover. 

A moan caught in her throat. His fingers were back, two, maybe three sliding inside this time, filling the aching emptiness. She laced her fingers with his other hand, falling back on the bed, eyes closed tight, and gave over to him and his stirring dedication. Her hips lifted, needing just a little more. At the gentle scrape of his teeth against her bud, she cried out his name and fell over the edge. Her entire body shaking as it rushed through her bones like waves on a shore, leaving her gasping.

She was barely aware of Jon moving up her body again, dropping kisses over her skin, as she floated back down. He licked at one of her nipples and brought it into his mouth. She opened her eyes to find his blown to black, watching her as he suckled.

Her lethargy suddenly gone, she pushed him to his back, wanting to end their torture. She moved between his legs and helped him tug off his britches and undershorts, very pleased to find what she had expected after that awkward moment at the fishing spot. She straddled his lean hips but he caught her own in his hands, not letting her take him inside, yet. “Wait...when...” he groaned and blushed. 

She smiled and leaned forward, placing kisses on his shoulder, neck, and up to his lips. They were salty with the taste of her. “Just say it, Jon.”

He heaved a shaky sigh, his brow twisted with worry. She didn't rush him, just waited patiently for him to gather his courage. He finally did, those big brown eyes searing her soul. “I can't bring another bastard into this world, Dany. I don't want any child a’ mine to suffer like I did...and—”

She shook her head. “Jon, I don’t want to hear that word, again. And, you don't have to worry, we won't. My family was wealthy, we had connections. I have something called a diaphragm _.  _ I already put it in. There will be no baby made tonight. Or any other night until we choose to.”

He furrowed his brow. “Diaphragm? What’s that?”

“I’ll explain better later, but trust me,” she told him as she pressed another kiss to his lips. “Trust me enough to know I would never do that to you.”

“I do trust you, but I can pull out if I need to, I'd just need us to turn over.”

She shook her head. “You won't need to, I promise. It'll be alright.”

He nodded, the crease in his brow finally fading as he brought her back in for a kiss. She took his ripe lips with hers then kissed along his neck as his warm, rough hands slid over her body, possessive and gripping at her ass, hips, and thighs as she rubbed her dripping slit over his rigid cock. She reached between them and grasped him loosely, deciding to torment him as he had done her, rubbing the plump head through her slick folds. She delighted in watching his eyes roll back, the muscles in his neck flexing as he strained against the urge to bury himself inside her. His fingers dug into her flesh when she finally pushed back and allowed him to slip inside. He let out a strangled groan and she bit her lip to contain her own until he was seated inside her fully. 

But then she couldn't help it, the delicious way he stretched her, filled her, his thick shaft, the plump head of him bumping sharply at her depths, sending a shudder through her and ripping a cry from her throat. She leaned down and took his mouth in a messy kiss, moving over him, grinding her hips against his, causing them to both groan and gasp. His hands returned to mapping her skin, from thighs, to hips, to waist, and up to her breasts, palming both. Jon shifted beneath her, bringing his knees up for leverage as he drove up into her, her breath caught and her vision went white for a moment. She looked down at him as she met each of his thrusts with one of her own. “Now, who’s impatient?” she panted.

He gave her the sexiest smirk she’d ever seen. “Me. But damn, you been teasin’ me for hours, now. Days, even,” he whispered. His eyes rolled back in his head again as she ground circles over him. “God, Dany.”

She pressed her hands to his chest, holding herself up. Every slide of his cock inside her was like the tightening of a spring, coiling around and around until there was nothing left to do but let go. Jon,  _ her Jon _ , touched her clit, barely grazed it, and the spring uncoiled and her body bent over his as her release shook through her, pulling her into a blissful dizzying spiral.

“Dany...so close...you sure—”

“Yes,” she gasped, lowering her mouth to take his in a heated kiss. He broke away, panting, his body seizing beneath hers as his cock filled her with his seed. She kissed his cheeks, along the scruff of his beard, his chin, then to his kiss-swollen lips as his breathing settled and he laid spent and peaceful beneath her. She loved the feel of his calloused fingers moving along her spine, his lips leaving soft kisses across her face, but more the feel of him still inside her. She felt content, safe, and loved for the first time in far too long, if ever.

*~*

“Can I ask you something?” she whispered, running her hand up his chest. He hummed into her hair, his fingers running slowly through it. Part of her didn't want to voice her question for fear of upsetting him now that he was so content, but she didn't understand and wanted to. To know him better. “Why is your last name Snow and not Stark?”

She expected him to wince, for his hand to still, maybe even for him to get up and leave her bed, but none of that happened. He only took a deep breath then blew it out, his fingers still playing in her hair. “They told me it started snowin’ when she went into labor,” he murmured, his voice a slow deep rumble under her ear. “It was the first snow of the winter that year. Time I got here there was a thick blanket of it coverin’ everythin’, but it stopped within minutes of my screamin’. My ma said it was a sign, that no matter what she’d done her boy was as pure and perfect as winter’s first snow.”

Dany buried her face into his neck, placing soft kisses over his pulse as she swallowed down the sudden rush of tears brought on by his words. “She wasn't wrong, you know?” she whispered, her voice catching. “I certainly agree with her.”

He huffed, his scruffy beard scraping against her temple where he pressed a kiss. “I ain't pure and perfect. Not even close. But, my name is all she gave me so I kept it. Uncle Ned told me that story when I was Rickon's age. Let me decide what the teacher would call me. I coulda been a Stark, but at six I just wanted to make her proud. Wasn't till later I realized what I’d done.”

Dany propped up on her elbow and looked down at him. “He let  _ you _ decide? At six?”  _ What man in their right mind… And to an innocent little boy... _

He shrugged. “He was like that. Knew life was hard and we'd have to make even harder decisions. Guess he figured the sooner we started makin’ em the sooner we’d make smart ones.”

She wasn't sure exactly why, but her blood began to boil. She sat up, willing herself to calm down, not wanting him to see her anger. It wasn't him she was angry with. But if Ned Stark were still alive she’d march straight up that mountain and cuss him a blue streak. Next time she was there she might even have to visit his grave. She could still cuss him, even if he was dead.

Jon’s hand came to rest on her back, running up her spine and under her hair. “What's wrong?” 

The worry in his voice cut through her outrage quick as lighting. As always he was blaming himself, thinking the worst. That he’d done something wrong. She turned around and settled herself beside him, sitting up and leaning into his side, propping a hand next to his other. From the look in his eyes, she knew she’d have to explain herself or he’d continue to fret. She ran a soothing hand over his chest. “Would you let Rickon make such a decision? One that would alter the rest of his life?”

“Rickon's not a bas–”

She put a finger over his plush lips. She would not hear that word. “Would you?” she asked again. 

He sighed. “No.”

“I know you loved him, still do I’m sure, but to put that on you... You were just a baby, Jon. It wasn't right.”

His hand had come to rest on her hip when she’d sat beside him, his eyes fell from hers focusing on his fingers as they drifted over her skin. “It wouldn't a’ mattered if I’d picked Stark over Snow. People in this town still knew how I came to be in this world, they wouldn't a’ looked at me any different than they did,” he told her, his voice gruff, yet quiet. He licked his lips and shrugged. “Hell, for all I know they may a’ thought worse a' me, for pretending to be somethin’ I wasn't.”

She tilted her head as she allowed her gaze to roam over his body, deciding now was the perfect time to begin chipping away at the shadows that hung around him. “Let’s talk about what you are.” He frowned and she mentally sighed thinking about how people allowed their own cruel judgments make a boy feel so unwanted in the world. No child asked to be born. Why did they feel it was perfectly fine to punish them for it? She lifted his chin, drawing his eyes to hers. How things so dark could hold such hope and love she’d never know. 

“You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met,” she whispered. “It’s no wonder I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re kind, honorable, loving, supportive, handsome.” She smiled at his doubting furrowed brow. “Looking at you sometimes causes me to physically ache, Jon. I’ve never been more attracted to someone than I am you.” He blushed and she chuckled. “And I’ll never tire of seeing you blush,” she teased, tickling her fingers down his side.

He sat up and rolled her onto her back. She spread her legs to accommodate him, loving the feel of his weight pressing her into the bed below. “I don’t see how you look at me and get all a’ that.”

She traced along his cheek and then stroked her fingers through his hair. “I  _ see _ you, Jon. The  _ real _ you. Not my fault the rest of the world is blind. It does mean that I get to keep you for myself. I’m selfish that way.”

He shook his head. “You ain't selfish. You wouldn't care so much ‘bout a boy you only met once if you were selfish,” he said softly. 

“Bran deserves as much or more than any other child does.” She raised up and kissed him, smiling against his lips. “Speaking of brothers, I still have to meet, Robb.”

He snorted, lowering his head to her shoulder. “Not yet, you don’t.”

“Why?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.  _ Was he ashamed of her? _

“I’m already takin’ hell from Arya and Robb  _ without _ him meetin’ you. He takes one look at you, sees how beautiful you are, an it’ll never end.”

She smirked. “You can’t hide me away forever. I know where you live, after all.”

Jon laid down, resting his head between her breasts. “Not forever. I’m sure Arya already told him what happened tonight. Won’t be surprised if he’s ain't sittin’ outside waitin’ on me,” he sighed.

Her heart and stomach did painful flips within her. “Does that mean you’re leaving?”

His head popped up. “What?” He looked down at their bodies wrapped around one another and raised an eyebrow at her. “You think I got the willpower to walk outta here right now? With you under me,  _ naked _ ? I ain't a saint, Dany.”

She laughed relief flooding through her. “I think maybe you are. Saint Jon of Winterfell, protector of virtue and slayer of evil rapists.”

His mouth turned up in a smirk. “Funny.”

“I thought so.” She twirled one of his raven curls around her finger and gave it a gentle tug. “Are you just going to lay here or are you going to make love to me again?”

Growling, he bit her gently over her breast in response. She moaned as he lifted her leg over his forearm and settled his hips into the cradle of hers. “Is that what you want?”

She nodded, biting her lip as he rubbed his hardening cock through her wet folds. He was teasing her and she both loved and hated it, but a part of her couldn't be happier to see some of his shyness was finally slipping away. “Yes. I want you inside me. Now,” she gasped as the head of his cock brushed against her clit. 

“I best keep my girl happy then, hadn't I?” he asked, fulfilling her wish with one thrust of his hips.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a doozy of a chapter, wasn't it? We enjoyed the shit out of writing it. Hope you like the next chapters as well. And so far, the order of the chapters has stayed the same: Robb, Jon, Dany, Marg, Arya/Gendry. We haven't deviated away from that, yet. Also, if you like a certain couple, chances are they are mentioned in the other chapters. I know that's true for the chapters coming up. We're a good distance ahead, at this point. We can't actually stop writing it. Both of us dread when we'll be done. 
> 
> But drop us a comment and let us know what you think! We love to hear from you guys!


	9. We Grew Together, Forever Tangled in the Dirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the events from the social, Margaery spends some one-on-one time with Bran, a visit with her grandmother brings to light some rather revealing and game-changing information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to meisie for the beta work on this chapter.
> 
> The gorgeous mood board was made by the talented Justwanderingneverlost.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left us a comment on the last chapter. The response was overwhelming and JW and I did our best to make sure everyone received a response for the love that was left for us. Whether it was just telling us you loved the chapter or long paragraphs with what you loved, we enjoyed each and every one! Thank you for taking the time for us.

**MARGAERY**

__ I was a daisy white and true  
_and you were a violet wild and blue_  
__ and we danced in the springtime air  
_I was an oak tree old and wise_  
__ and you were the field in which I’d lie  
_we grew together, forever tangled in the dirt_  
__ but of all the things I could be  
_I want to be with you_  
__ and of all the dreams I could dream  
_I want to dream of you_  
  
__ I was a firefly on a southern summer night  
_and you were the child drawn to my light_  
__ you finally caught me  
_and kept me in your favorite glass jar_  
__ I was a traveler in search of gold  
_and you my companion_  
__ we shared a path that only stars could make  
_I was a poet alone with my thoughts_  
__ and you were my poems  
__ you shared my story long after I was gone  
_I was the moon full of light_  
__ and you were the wolf howling at the night  
_you waited for me with every setting sun_  
__ but of all the things I could be  
_I want to be with you_  
  
__ and of all the dreams I could dream  
_want to dream of you_  
__ of all the things I could be  
_I want to be with you_  
__ and of all the dreams that I’ve dreamed  
_my favorite one is you  
_ __ ‘cause you are the one I want

_ Of All My Dreams  
**The Wild Reeds** _

 

Margaery had just put the coffee on when the familiar sound of Jon’s car pulling up in yard broke the quiet. Robb was out of their bedroom a moment later, jerking up his suspenders, his steps heavy as he went out the front door. She hurried after him to keep it from slamming. Bran and Rickon were still sleeping and she wanted to let them stay that way until Rickon had to get ready for school. 

The sky was a dozen brilliant shades of purple and orange, the sun just coming up over the trees. The air was crisp and clean, the first taste of fall beginning to tease the mountains. One couldn't ask for a prettier morning, but she could tell from the set of Robb’s jaw and the tension in his shoulders it wasn't going to stay that way. 

Jon climbed out of the car, glaring white bandages wrapped around the knuckles of both hands. She leaned against the post, her arms folded over her chest as he walked up to the steps and stood in front of his brother, his jaw set in the same stubborn fashion.

“Where’ve you been?” Robb asked, his tone less than pleased.

Jon’s dark eyes narrowed. “Where you think I’ve been?”

“Arya told us ‘bout your fight with Ramsay.” He huffed then shook his head. “Sorry, you’re  _ pummeling _ a’ Ramsay.”

“He deserved what he got,” Jon said as he looked at the ground, his full lips pressed into a hard line.

The door opened behind her and Bronn stepped out, closing it quietly as well. He walked down two steps, eyeing Jon the whole way, then stopped and pointed a finger at him. “I thought I told you to lay low and not cause trouble.”

Jon’s anger finally rose to the surface. “They had their hands on her,” he snarled, stepping into Bronn's space. It wasn't often any of them let the wolf blood show, but Jon wasn't doing anything to hide it now.

Bronn didn't let it bother him. “Then you take her and you walk away. You don’t beat on Roose Bolton’s son. Roose is an ally of Tywin Lannister. You fucked up, boy,” he snapped right back.

Jon’s eyes were black as coal as they darted from Bronn to Robb and back again. “You two just been waitin’ up to chew me out, haven't ya?”

Robb folded his arms over his chest. “We gotta lay low, Jon. You know that. The last thing we need is the Lannisters havin’ another reason to come after us. You and your damn temper!”

_ “My temper!? _ What would you a’ done if it’d been Margaery? Would you just stand by and watch a man grope her? Not raise a single hand? They called her a whore–”

“Those are just words,” Bronn said with a shake of his head. “You’ve put your family in more danger ‘cause Roose will be lookin’ for revenge against the bastard that bloodied his son’s face.”

Before Jon's glare could turn into something more dangerous, Margaery cleared her throat. “Is Dany alright?”

They all looked at her, Robb blushing and dropping his gaze to the porch. She knew he felt guilty for not asking after her welfare, just as he should be. 

Jon nodded, his hackles easing back down a bit, the feral glint fading from his eyes. “She is.”

She heaved a sigh. “Good, I’m glad to hear that. Now, what's done is done. You three better head to the barn, you’ve got work to do. Arya and Gendry will be here in a few minutes. I’ll start breakfast and get the boys up.”

Robb’s gaze found hers, the look of worry and concern on his face fading to amusement, but he did as told and the other two followed him. Bronn was still chewing Jon out as they walked away.

Though she may not admit it out loud, she thought Jon had reacted the way he should’ve. That those brutes were putting their hands on Dany, like it was their right, and then had the audacity to call her a whore in front of Jon only meant, to her mind, at least, that they deserved what they got. She wouldn't have stood by and watched another woman suffer the greedy and repellent hands of any man. She shook her head, clearing it of dark memories as she watched Gendry's truck pull over to the barn through the window. 

Busying herself making breakfast, she hoped the simple task would push the thoughts away of what could happen now that the Bolton’s would most definitely be coming after Jon.

*~*

Summer trailed behind her as she walked down the hill to the swing, Robb, Bronn, and Jon maneuvering Bran’s chair just ahead of her. 

“And what will you do if the Lannisters show up and you’re down here?” Bronn asked as they came to a stop. 

She spread out the blanket and sat on it, looking up at the concerned faces of her lover, his brother, and her hired protector. She heaved a sigh. “Send any of the wolves down here as a warning.”

“Summer will let us know, too,” Bran added. “Margaery can run farther down the hill to the car. She’ll be closer to it.”

“That leaves you here all alone.”

“I’m a sick cripple, I’m supposed to be home,” Bran reminded him. 

Robb shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Fine. Summer gives any indication, you run and don’t look back,” he told her. “We’ll protect Bran.”

“Alright. Now, get him out of the chair and onto the blanket.” Robb did as he was asked, he and Jon lowering Bran to the blanket. The boy sat back on his hands and looked around at the leaves of the trees and closed his eyes, his face suddenly covered in sunshine. Margaery’s heart swelled within her chest, seeing a serene smile grow on his face. 

She sat across from him with her own smile and gave Robb a wave. With a nod, he followed the already retreating Jon and Bronn back up the hill. 

“Robb and Jon are fightin’,” Bran said, but it wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement.

“They are,” she said with a nod.

“Cause of the fight Jon got into with Ramsay?”

She sighed and nodded again. “I forget how much that house carries sound.”

“It didn’t help they were arguin’ loud enough for the mountains to hear em.”

She gave him a half-smile. “No, I suppose it didn’t.”

“Do you think Jon was wrong? To do what he did?

Margaery took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts, then shook her head. “No. I think Jon did what he should have. Perhaps it taught Ramsay a lesson.”

“I’ve met Ramsay. I don’t know that he can be taught.”

She shook her head and looked down at the book in her hand, running her fingers along the spine. “Let’s hope for the best.”

Bran sighed and pulled up a twig of grass, twisting it in his fingers. “Don’t know how well that’ll work. What do you have to read?”

“Shakespeare,” she said as she held up the large tome. “What suits you? Comedy or drama?”

“Comedy. The world is grim enough.”

She winked at him. “Wise beyond your years, Bran Stark. What about  _ Much Ado About Nothing _ ?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know that I’ve heard that one.”

“It’s one of my favorites. It has a dastardly villain that causes all sorts of trouble and only a few people smart enough to see the truth through his schemes.”

“But it’s a comedy?”

She nodded. “It is. We probably won’t get through all of it, but we can do this every few days if you like.”

Bran lay back on the blanket, tucked his hands beneath his head and smiled. “I’d like that.”

Margaery smiled as she opened the book to the play. “ _ Act I, Scene 1. Before Leonato’s house _ .”

*~*

She was exhausted, yet she hadn’t done all that much that day. Breakfast had been made and cleared away, she’d spent a good portion of the morning reading to Bran, the fresh air doing much to help calm her rolling stomach. Robb had brought them both lunch and even stayed to eat with them as he listened in to her reading of Beatrice’s secret love for Benedict. He had left them, though, and went back to the field with Jon and Gendry. 

It wasn't long after that she and Bran heard the engine of the tractor roar to life and the two brother’s cheer. They’d been working on it for months, Gendry painstakingly rebuilding the motor piece by piece. The three of them were in the field laughing and jumping around like the brothers hadn’t been fighting all morning. 

They had come back to bring Bran into the house when Gendry left to get Rickon. She started on supper then, Bran offering to help. She gave him a bowl and the bag of snap peas and he set about doing each one. She sliced potatoes and put them in a pot to boil, then worked on breading the pork chops. By the time Rickon came inside, running at full speed as he usually did, she felt like she was dead on her feet. Once she had supper on the table and sat in her chair, she knew she could go to sleep right there and not wake for an age. 

Night fell and Rickon had finished his bath. She didn’t know how she was still moving. She settled beside him on the bed, brushing down his curls as she hummed to him, closing her eyes for a few moments. She awoke to a soft caress against her cheek and found Robb crouched beside her, a smile on his face. “Should I leave you here?”

She pushed at him and stood, using his shoulder to help her balance when the room started spinning. Robb’s hands caught her around the waist and he looked at her in concern. “You alright?”

She nodded, turned out the light and walked down the hall to their room. “Gendry and Arya already gone?”

He smiled as he took off his shirt. “Apparently, your grandmother has insisted on being first in line. Takes them a little extra time to get from Highgarden to Tyrion’s.”

She pulled her dress over her head, leaving her in her slip. Robb brushed her hair aside and placed kisses along her neck and shoulder, his hands gripping her waist. She leaned back into him and smiled, closing her eyes for a minute. His lips pressed against her temple as his hands moved along her bare arms up to her shoulders. “You look exhausted.”

She nodded. “I feel like I could fall asleep standing up.”

“To bed with you, then,” he murmured, guiding her to it. 

“I still need to wash my face.” She pulled out of his grasp and moved to the basin. 

Robb went to his side of the bed, the thud of his boots hitting the floor soon after, then the iron headboard shifted against the wall. He had found a way to keep it from squeaking every time they moved, as promised. 

She smiled slightly, enjoying the scented cream her grandmother had made sure to add in one of the many care packages she’d sent back with Arya and Gendry. She smoothed it over her hands, arms, and legs feeling Robb watching her. She removed her slip and pulled out a silk nightgown and pulled it over her head, knowing she still had his full attention. When she sat on the edge of the bed and fluffed her pillow Robb’s hands found her shoulders, gently massaging her tired muscles. She leaned her head back against his chest, allowing his strong fingers to knead the aches away. 

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked.

She nodded. “The sun must have drained me. Not used to it anymore, I suppose.”

He sighed. “It was really nice what you did for Bran today. I feel like Jon and I might forget how isolated he can feel.”

She put her hand over his. “ I’m glad I can make him smile.”

He moved to sit beside her and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s not just Bran. When you’re here it feels like a real family. Not just Jon and I failing them all the time.” 

She turned to face him and rubbed her fingers over the stubble at his jaw. “Robb, you were doing just fine by them,” she said softly. “I know that because I see how much Rickon and Bran look up to you. Jon, too.” She gave him a smile. “You’re a wonderful brother. Lesser men would have left them to an orphanage. With you, that was never an option.”

He took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers. “I love you, Margaery. I don’t ever want you to doubt that.”

She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I don’t. Do you know what I want?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked mischievously which caused her to laugh. “Not that!” Though she hummed and followed it up with, “well, maybe that. But I want you to be nice to Jon.”

Robb scowled. “Marg, what he did…it was reckless and impulsive. Then he didn’t show up all night, leavin’ us to worry.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “I seem to remember the two of us acting rather impulsively when you got back from the war. How many times did we sneak into the hayloft and not tell anyone we were there? Jon picked up the slack whenever we escaped. You can forgive him for protecting a woman he cares for and staying to keep doing so.”

His pretty blue eyes narrowed. “You don’t really think  _ that’s _ why he stayed with her, do you?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Of course not. You’ve seen him today. Smiling out of the blue. When has Jon ever been one to smile for no reason?”

“Never.”

“Exactly. So, go easy on him. It’s the happiest I’ve seen him in years, if ever.”

Robb nodded and sighed. “You’re right.” He shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I am happy for him, you know? He might actually love her already. I was worried that might never happen for him again. He deserves a good woman, and even though we ain't met her yet, I think she is one. I’ll leave em alone, for now.” His blue eyes leveled on her as he sat back up and pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Hopefully Ramsay got the message and Lord willin’ he and his friends won't come lookin’ for revenge.”

He took her around the waist and laid them back on the bed, taking a deep breath as he nuzzled into her hair.

“You ready for that  _ maybe _ , now?” she asked him, sliding a hand up his lean side.

“You're worn out, darlin’. I can wait.”

She leaned in and kissed him, appreciating that he was trying to be the chivalrous gentleman, but she wanted his hands on her, wanted to feel his lips against her skin, and she desperately wanted to feel him inside her. 

He took her face in his hands and pulled away from the kiss. “You sure?”

She slid her hand down his torso to his cock and grasped it. His groan was loud and she quickly sealed their mouths once more. He pushed her nightgown down over her arms and let the silk pool at her waist. Margaery continued the long, slow strokes over his cock as she kissed along his throat, tasting him with lips and tongue. He rolled her to her back, his hands sliding the skirt of her gown up to her hips, then slid his hand beneath the waist of her drawers. She sighed as his fingers gently ran through her folds and his mouth latched onto her breast. His tongue and lips teased over the little bud, but she gasped at the sharp pain his attentions caused and pushed him away. 

Robb stared at her, his brow twisted in confusion. “You alright?” 

Even she had to admit that it was strange. His touch had been gentle, but it created such a sharp sensation within her she couldn’t take more than a slight brushing. 

She nodded and smiled to reassure him. “I’m fine, I just...want your lips elsewhere.”

He looked at her for a moment, his pretty blue eyes filled with doubt, and she knew he probably didn’t believe her. She brought his mouth back to hers, letting her hands roam his shoulders and into his curls, proving she wanted him. It worked. He seemed to brush aside his worry, sliding down the bed and between her thighs, dropping kisses along her flat belly, the thatch of blonde curls above her folds, the tops of her thighs. She spread them and he gave her a look that had her squirming beneath his soft caress. 

The first touch of his tongue against her folds had her gasping for air. He drifted away from her cunt and kissed along her thigh, his fingers now joining in on the teasing. When he reached her knee, he delved back in to her, his fingers spreading her open as his tongue tormented her tiny bundle of nerves. 

She groaned in frustration as he did the same thing again, only to the other thigh. “Robb Stark, if you don’t stop teasin’ me, I’ll kill you,” she hissed. 

He chuckled against her slit and the vibrations through her entire body. She moved back on the bed, sitting against the headboard as her lover followed. His blue eyes met hers, a wicked smile upon his pouty lips. She stifled another groan at the feel of his tongue parting through her folds to lick at her opening. The man was such a tease it drove her mad. She slid her fingers through his auburn curls, holding him to her, her other hand covering her mouth to keep from being heard. He pulled away from her and gripped her thighs to tug her back down the bed, laying her flat. He kissed along her thighs, then grasped her legs and turned her on her side. He placed a few lingering kisses over her ass, his fingers sliding through her folds to tease and torment, as he laid down behind her.

She was nearly breathless when his mouth found hers, his fingers moving faster and faster until she was on the very brink and then they were gone. Her scathing groan of frustration would’ve carried through the house had he not been kissing her. But her annoyance quickly disappeared as he slid his cock inside her. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tight as she draped her leg back over his. Robb trailed his lips over her neck and shoulder as she entwined their fingers. She loved the feel of him so close, pressed against her as they moved as one.

She guided his hand over her flat belly to her cunt and he took her cue and flicked over her clit even as he took her mouth again. She was thankful for his quick thinking because she was sure her moan would have been loud enough to shake the foundation of the house. His thrusts sped up, matching pace with his fingers. She reached back and dug her nails into his hip as if it could hold her on that blissful edge a little longer. He nipped her lip for that, but she didn’t care as he sent her whirling into the beyond with skilled attentions. 

Her cunt clenched and quivered around his thrusting cock, a shiver running through her when he grunted, burying his face into her neck, and released inside her. The slow, shallow twitches of his cock soon subsided and they both lay spent in their bed. He placed kisses along her shoulder as his arms tightened around her once more. 

Margaery could fall asleep just as she was, feeling completely content. She smiled and leaned her head against his. 

“What has that smile on your face?” he asked, his voice soft and sleepy in her ear. 

Her smile widened as she looked back at him. “Just finally where I belong. Home at last.”

The love she saw reflecting back in his crystal blue eyes was all the reassurance she needed. “At last,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

***~***

Arya calling Bran for breakfast woke her the next morning, and Rickon’s arguing with Robb about taking a frog to school kept her that way. Not waking when Robb did was quite unusual for her. She’d always been a light sleeper. When she sat up, the room spun around her. Putting both feet on the floor, she tried to steady herself a bit. She reached for her robe and pulled it on, fighting a sudden bout of nausea as she stood and tied the sash. 

Whatever this was, she was ready for it to leave her alone. She pulled one of her looser dresses from the wardrobe and slipped it on, deciding to forgo her slip and stockings. It was still rather warm out and the thought of anything hot or binding around her middle made her belly churn. One wrong move today and she feared she would lose the contents of her stomach.

She walked to the kitchen and found Bran still at the table eating, Arya sitting across from him. Rickon and Robb had already left. She poured a cup of coffee and they all stopped what they were doing, hearing a car pull up. 

Arya was at the window a moment later. She sagged in relief. “It’s just your grandmother,” she said as she poured out the remains of her coffee. “I’m going to bed.”

Margaery was still in too much of a fog to respond as Arya left, holding the door open for Olenna. She walked over and greeted her grandmother with a kiss on her cheek then went and pulled a chair at the table out for her. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, dear, thank you.” 

As she put the kettle on the stove her grandmother greeted Bran. “You’re Brandon Stark.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How old are you?”

“Twelve, be thirteen come spring.”

“Almost a man grown, then. You keeping up with your schooling?”

Margaery went to scold her for hounding him, but Bran wasn't the least bit ruffled. 

“Yes, ma’am. I can read, write, know my numbers. The new teacher sends me books, too.”

“Excellent. Keep your mind sharp, boy. It’ll serve you well, even if your body doesn't. No sense wasting what you do have.”

“No, ma’am, none at all.”

Margaery smiled at him as she sat down beside her grandmother at the table. Bran finished his breakfast, put his plate in the sink, then rolled into his bedroom, giving them privacy. 

“He seems like a good boy. Doesn't give you any tro–”

“Bran is a wonderful boy,” she cut over her. “He has a bright mind and the sweetest of hearts. Just like all of his brothers do.”

Olenna cut her eyes and sniffed, but took the jab without comment. “How are you, my dear? And don’t tell me you’re fine. I can see the circles under your eyes and how pale you are.”

Margaery heaved a sigh. “I’m tired, is all.”

“That’s all?”

She knew better than to think Olenna would let it drop. The truth was she didn’t have an explanation as to why she felt so under the weather. “I’m fine. Truly,” she said, standing when the kettle whistled. She poured them both some tea and sat back down. They drank in silence for a bit and Margaery was thankful her nausea began to settle more and more with each sip she took.

But then Olenna lifted her chin and turned her face toward hers. Her steely gaze felt intrusive and Margaery wanted to snatch herself away from it. Her grandmother lowered her hand and shook her head. “It’s more than tired,” she said as if she knew something Margaery didn’t. “Found your emotions getting the best of you? Nauseated? Any tenderness?” Margaery knew by the look on her face that she had put together that she had been having all of those symptoms. “Tell me that you aren’t as stupid as I can assume and you are being  _ careful _ .”

Margaery’s eyes widened. She leaned back in her seat and dropped her hands to her lap, her thumb brushing over her stomach. _How long had it been since she and Robb_... _two_ _weeks_? _No, it was three_ , _at least_. _She'd been there a month already. She hadn't had her monthly, how could she have missed that?_ Even so, if she was pregnant, it was only by a few weeks at most. 

Her grandmother reached into her bag for a pen and then handed her a stack of papers. “You need to sign these. Let’s get this divorce finalized before they know you’re pregnant.”

Margaery took the pen from her and frowned. “We don’t  _ know _ that I am.”

Olenna looked at her, that condescending smile she was known for on her face. “My dear, I’ve figured it out. Don’t tell me you’re in some ridiculous form of denial.” Margaery turned her attention to the forms and signed her name at the places marked. “There is a hearing in two weeks. Your brothers will come fetch you the day before. You’ll spend the night at Highgarden so you can ride into town with us as a united front. And don’t tell anyone about this.” Her grandmother was silent for a moment, then nudged her hand with her own. “I suppose it will be nice to meet my great-grandchild, even if it does come from Robb Stark.”

Scowling Margaery put the pen on the table. “You told me once when I was younger that all you ever wanted was for me to be happy. Is it that you want me to be  _ your _ version of happy or truly happy?”

Olenna raised an eyebrow and tapped her nails on the table. “I never thought there would be a difference. It pains me to see you living like this, in this shack, taking care of two children who aren’t yours, with a man who is doomed to fail everyone.”

It took all her strength not to snap at her. She stood up and walked to the sink, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths before she felt calm enough to speak. “Robb is a wonderful man who sacrifices  _ everything _ for his family. He didn’t have to take me back. He didn’t have to hide me. He shouldn’t still love me after what I did, but he does. He takes care of his brothers because it’s the right and honorable thing to do.” She found herself at the table again, staring daggers down at her grandmother. “I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve known what love was. That won’t change. I truly enjoy taking care of Bran and Rickon. I like having Jon and Gendry as my friends and family. I even, kind of, like Arya. But the love I feel for Robb, there's no comparing it to anything else. He’s the part of my life that has always made sense and I ignored it once for the finer things in life. I will  _ not _ do that again.” She grabbed the papers folded them up. “I will not stand for you speaking ill of my future husband or his family again. Understood?”

Olenna was silent for a moment and Margaery almost wanted to retract her statement but stood firm under the scrutiny of her grandmother. Olenna heaved out a sigh and smiled. “There she is. There’s the girl that’s been missing. Strong willed, obstinate, passionate, fierce. You’ve been gone for quite some time.”

Margaery took a shaky breath. “Since my betrothal to Joffrey.”

Olenna nodded. “A problem that will be solved in two weeks time, hopefully.” She stood and put a hand on Margaery’s belly. “You’ll need to be all of those things to take care of my great-grandchild. I believe you’re capable of doing great things, and I hope, boy or girl, they have your stubbornness and his eyes.”

Margaery covered her hand with her own, fighting back a sudden well of tears. “Thank you.”

She nodded and cupped her cheek. “You’re the finest flower in our garden, my dear. It’s time to show the world how you bloomed.”

Margaery stood leaning against the counter for a time after Olenna left, her hand stroking her belly, a soft smile tugging at her lips she couldn't contain. “What will you bring, little one?” she whispered. 

*~*

She’d been sleeping like the dead for days, but no matter how much rest she got the nagging exhaustion seemed to have settled deep within her bones. And this morning she'd barely turned over when the urge to vomit had her sprinting from the bed and to the bathroom. The door closed and Robb was beside her, holding her hair from her face as she wretched and heaved. When there was nothing left to do but catch her breath, he took a cool washcloth and wiped her face and the tears away.

“I knew you was gettin’ sick,” he said softly as he stood to rinse out the cloth. 

She tugged on his pants, knowing for certain now. Robb looked down at her and a wave of fresh tears fell. She couldn't hold them back, her rolling emotions getting the best of her at one concerned look from those blue eyes. 

“Hey, now, it's just an upset stomach. You're gonna be fine, darlin’,” he crooned as he crouched down beside her where she leaned against the tub. He wiped at her face again, sweet and gentle.

She stopped him, taking his hand and shaking her head. “I think this is more than being sick,” she whispered. “We haven’t been careful. Not since we started sleeping together, again. I knew and accepted the consequences of our actions because I love you and intend to spend the rest of my life with you, but...” He tilted his head and waited, quiet and passive. “I think, grandmother does as well,  _ we  _ think I might be pregnant.”

Robb sat back a bit, taking a deep breath through his nose but he was cut off from responding by a pounding on the door. “Other people in this house need to use this room!” Bronn’s voice echoed against the tile.

“You alright to move?” Robb asked.

She nodded and he helped her to her feet and escorted her back to their room, shooting a dark look at a frowning Bronn as they passed him. She moved to the armoire and pulled out a lightweight dress, deciding once again, just as she had every day for the past week, to forgo everything else, even her shoes. She pulled her hair into a messy bun, then leaned against the dresser as another bout of nausea ripped through her. 

Robb’s hands gently rubbed her back as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “Why don’t you stay in bed today? I’ll tell the others you’re sick. We’ll manage.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

She turned in his arms and he placed a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t tell anyone else,” he whispered. “The fewer people know, the less chance of the wrong person overhearin’.”

“Grandmother knows.”

He nodded. “That’s good. She’ll understand the speediness of your divorce even more.”

“She’s had a hearing set for next week. I’m to spend the night before at Highgarden so we can arrive as a unified front.”

He sighed. “Am I allowed to be there?”

“I was hoping you would be.” She rubbed her thumb along his jaw. “We were interrupted,” she said softly. “You didn’t say anything about my suspicion.”

He smoothed a hand over her flat belly. “How could you think I’d be anythin’ but over the moon? I love you. Want to marry you, spend the rest of my life with you. Surely you know that by now.”

“I do.” She put her hand over his and rested her head on his shoulder. “I love you, Robb. We really are going to be a family, aren't we?”

He brushed his hand over her hair and pressed his cheek against her head. “You’ve been part of my family since we were youngins. You’re the only girl I ever met that could make me forget what I was doin’. When you’re around, you're all I think about.” He let out a slight chuckle. “It’s frustratin’ havin’ all my thoughts be of you when I’m tryin’ to do actual work. Jon’s thrown things at me for it.”

She smiled and turned toward him and wrapped her arms around his trim waist. But another wave of nausea hit her and she sprinted from the room and to the now empty bathroom and dry heaved into the toilet. She vaguely heard the door close and little Rickon on the other side asking if she was alright. She leaned against the porcelain and tried to breathe. A few minutes later, Rickon was stomping down the hall and Robb knocked on the door. “Can I get you anythin’?”

“No,” she said softly, leaning back against the tub to wait it out. “Take care of the boys.”

The floorboards squeaked as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hesitating, then he made his decision, the soft shuffling of bare feet against wood as he walked away. A few minutes later she pushed herself up and went to the sink. She turned it on, the cold water a soothing reprieve from her suffering as she rinsed her mouth, then splashed some on her face. After several deep breaths, the rolling in her stomach finally began to ease. She stood straighter, determined to push through. The precious gift she was carrying would be worth it all in the end. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we posted a little early, but we're both tired! :)
> 
> We hope you liked this chapter. As someone pointed out in a comment on another chapter, we have a bunch of people having sex with little to no discussion about birth control. Dany had a plan. Arya and Gendry had a system. Margaery and Robb...well, they let the chips fall where they may.


	10. You're the Heart of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another run with Gendry and Arya and a warning is issued as plans are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to meisie for the beta on this. BTW, she really liked this chapter and it made us both super happy!
> 
> The gorgeous mood board was made by the extremely talented justwanderneverlost
> 
> I know we keep posting late Sunday night, but eh, we aren't held down by RULES. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left a comment on this fic. We go through them all and wait with bated breath after we post each chapter. We're so thrilled with the outpouring of love for this fic and you can't imagine how much we love writing it. We have the whole thing plotted out now, chapter by chapter, and it's emotional to see that last document sitting in our folder waiting to be written. But know that we've got a LOT of story left to tell and we hope that you'll all stick with us for the ride.

 

**  
Arya/Gendry**

  
_I was broken, I was blind_  
_Lost in a moment I thought I left behind_  
_Then you woke up this dark soul of mine_  
_Carrying a light I thought I'd never find_  


_When you found me, I was all alone  
The whole world around me,_

_but nowhere to call home_  
_I heard your voice sing like heaven's choir_  
_Gathered up my fears and threw them in the fire_  


_Oh, my darling, sweet love of mine_  
_I'll hold you all through the night_  
_I gave you your name; you gave me back my life_  
_You're the heart of me, oh, sweet love of mine_  
_You're the heart of me, oh, sweet love of mine_  


_Oh, my darling, sweet love of mine_  
_I'll hold you all through the night_  
_I gave you your name; you gave me back my life_  
_You're the heart of me, oh, sweet love of mine_  
_You're the heart of me, oh, sweet love of mine_

_****  
** ** _

_Sweet Love of Mine  
**Joy Williams** _

 

**ARYA**

Arya was squeezed between Jon and Gendry as the truck rattled and shook down the dark mountain road. Nymeria was poking her head over the side of the truck, leaning into the wind. They reached the end and Gendry turned them towards town.

 

As usual, having Jon along for the ride kept a smirk on her face. She couldn't help it. She loved having the opportunity to give him a difficult time about his burgeoning romance with Rickon’s teacher. He’d been hitching rides with them four or five times a week for the last three. Dany seemed like a nice enough lady, and she also appeared to appreciate Jon for the wonderful man he was. She'd keep her teasing light unless things changed. He deserved to be happy, more than any of them she reckoned.

 

She nudged him with her elbow. “How long you gonna be sneakin’ away from the house?”

 

Jon glanced at her then turned his attention back out the window. “It’s what’s safer for her, right now.”

 

“After what happened with Ramsay, you mean?”

 

He nodded. “I don’t want her reputation ruined, but at the same time...I can’t stay away.”

 

Arya smiled to hear that. Her brother hadn’t been himself since he’d returned home from the war. His brooding had become almost constant. He helped tend to the boys, the house, and the fields, managed to get their moonshine business thriving, but there seemed to be an emptiness behind his eyes throughout it all. But that hollow look had all but disappeared since he’d met the schoolmarm. Left behind was a Jon that smiled without realizing it, a man who appeared lighter and had faith and hope in the world around him again.

 

They came to the wooded area at the back of Dany’s house. Jon had his door opened before Gendry even got the truck stopped. “See ya in the mornin’,” he said, jumping out, quietly closing the door behind him, before making his way towards the little house at a brisk pace. Arya saw a faint light pour through the trees as Dany’s backdoor opened. She'd been waiting and watching no doubt, as eager to see Jon as he was her.

 

Gendry pulled away and back onto the road and Arya moved closer to him, planting a kiss on his cheek, her brother's happiness leaking into her, bringing up memories of her and Gendry's early days. He smirked at her, giving her a peck on her own cheek as he shifted gears.

 

They had a bit of time before they arrived at Highgarden. Arya didn’t care for Olenna, having heard the way she spoke of their family and specifically Robb. Margaery was lucky to have him and even luckier that Robb found it in himself to forgive her for what she did. Arya knew she wouldn’t have been so kind.

 

“You think Jon’ll marry Dany?” Gendry asked, glancing at her.

 

Arya shrugged, though she’d wondered the same thing. “I don’t know. Maybe. I ain't never seen him like this about someone before. I mean, I think he loved Ygritte, but she was kinda mean to him sometimes. He was never just smilin’ for no reason like he does now.”

 

Jon already seemed crazy about her, and her him. Spending the night together was no small declaration. But even so, Jon seemed to worry too much about what the folks in town thought about him. He could be rather stupid in that regard. Arya, personally, didn’t give a damn about what anyone but Gendry thought of her. He loved her. That's all that mattered. The rest of the world could go drown in the river for all she cared.

 

“Well, I hope he does. I liked him just fine as he was, but... seeing him so happy…”

 

Arya squeezed his arm, knowing what he meant even if he couldn't get the words out. “Me too.”

 

They finally entered the long drive of the Tyrell home. The huge estate seemed to have every light in every room on. They followed the drive to the side entrance where the kitchen was. Arya got out and met Gendry at the back of the truck, Nymeria at her side sniffing her hair.

 

Mace Tyrell was an older, portly fellow, who seemed amenable enough. He was always there to greet them and ask after Margaery’s health. Gendry was polite and answered any and all of his questions. It was on the rare drop off that Olenna would actually show herself. Tonight appeared to be one of those nights.

 

“How is Margaery?” Mace asked, true concern in his tone. Arya felt less dislike for Mace than she did Olenna. It was clear to her who was pulling the strings in their family.

 

Gendry placed the crate just inside the door and Arya gave him a short answer. “She’s fine.”

 

“Fine? She’s simply fine?” Olenna fussed. “Should I send my grandsons up to fetch her since she’s merely _fine_.”

 

Mace tried to intervene. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, Mother.”

 

“Hush. Well? Should I send them?”

 

Gendry moved to stand in front of the woman. “She’s doing well, ma’am. The two little ones love her like a mother and she and Robb are very happy. Speaking about a possible wedding once hers to Joffrey is finished.”

 

“He speak for you, girl? Didn’t think you needed a mouthpiece.”

 

Arya took a breath, swallowing down her ire. “Gendry doesn’t speak for me, but he’s right. She seems happy in the life she’s _chosen_.”

 

“Yes, I wouldn’t think a girl like you would understand family obligation and doing what was best for them as a whole.”

 

Arya narrowed her eyes a bit. “A girl like _me_? What is it about me that displeases you so?”

 

“You’re not much of a lady.”

 

“Ladies tend to get trampled on in our world. Better I have my wits about me so I don’t allow my family to dictate what I can and can't do.” She tilted her head and gave Olenna a half smile. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said, crossing the Tyrell name off the list.

 

“Wait just a moment,” Mace said and brought out another suitcase. “We have this for Margaery.”

 

Gendry took it from him and slid it into the back of the truck then tipped his hat at Olenna and Mace. Arya didn’t bother with any more manners, climbing into the truck, Nymeria at her side. Gendry closed the door behind them then moved to the other side and they were soon driving off again. They pulled out onto the main road before he spoke again.

 

“What was that between you and Mrs. Tyrell?”

 

“You mean other than them breakin’ my brother's heart by forcin’ Margaery to marry Joffrey?”

 

Gendry frowned and looked over at her. It was dark enough that she couldn’t make out his face as well as she’d like. “I don’t like what they did to Margaery. She ended up gettin’ hurt cause of it. But I don’t believe they did it to intentionally hurt anyone.”

 

“I don’t need you defendin’ em,” she griped.

 

Gendry huffed out a sigh. “I’m not. Not really. But I think that if Margaery does marry your brother then there’s the good chance that we’ll be seeing more of her grandmother. Keep the peace for the boys.”

 

She didn’t believe in biting her tongue just to keep the peace with someone like Olenna. Her brother’s future happiness was her concern. But Gendry might be right, they probably would be seeing more of Olenna now that Margaery was truly going to be part of the family, at least that seemed to be the plan.

 

Things sure had changed lately. All the folks new and old drifting into their lives. She wasn't sure she liked it, but it certainly made things interesting.

 

From there, her thoughts drifted to Jon and his schoolmarm, the mysterious Dany Storm. Jon wasn’t a person who shared details. He seemed especially so about her, keeping everything close to the vest. No matter how much Arya pressed and prodded for him to open up and tell her something, he’d remained tight-lipped so far.

 

She glanced at Gendry, knowing there were times he and Jon spoke when she wasn’t around. Her husband was as loyal as her wolf. If Jon had told him anything he probably wouldn’t tell her. Then again, she was Gendry’s _wife_ and nosey. “Has Jon said anythin’ to you about Miss Storm?”

 

He shook his head. “No more than he says about anythin’ else.”

 

“Come on, you’re old war buddies. Are you tellin’ me he hasn’t said _anything_?” She made sure to pronounce that last bit clear and slow.

 

He turned his head toward her, eyes squinted with suspicion, then faced the road again. “I know as much as you do. He ain’t talkin’ and I haven’t really been pushin’.”

 

“Why not?”

 

He smirked. “Cause I knew I’d have to have this conversation with you eventually and I wanted clean hands so I didn’t have to lie or break faith.”

 

She folded her arms over her chest and harrumphed. “Clever.”

 

“Not as stupid as I look. ‘Sides, you need to stay out of your brother’s business. He’ll tell you what he wants you to know.”

 

She groaned. “Jon is so private, even from me, his favorite sibling.”

 

Gendry laughed. “You think you’re his favorite?”

 

“Of course I am. He’s told me so.”

 

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Would you be upset if I told you I heard him say the same thing to Rickon.”

 

Her eyes snapped to his. “You’re lyin’.”

 

He was silent for a moment then busted out laughing. “Yeah, I am.” She punched him in the arm, Nymeria whimpering as Gendry continued to laugh, Arya raining down fists against his bicep.

 

“You’re gonna make me run off the road if ya don’t stop,” he said as he swatted at her hands with his free one. “You’re so easy sometimes,” he chuckled as she settled down into her seat.

 

“And you’re an ass sometimes.”

 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “I’m all yours, though.”

 

“Lucky me,” she deadpanned, but didn’t move out of his hold.

 

She reached over and stroked Nymeria’s fur as they grew closer to Tyrion’s house. When they finally pulled down the long drive and around the back, they found him pacing his patio. Arya thought that was odd. He always seemed to be lounging about, a drink already in hand, and a ready smile. Instead, his shoulders were straight, his hands folded behind his back, and something close to relief was etched upon his face.

 

Arya let Nymeria out. The wolf trotted to him and laid down at Tyrion’s feet, whimpering. He gave her a scratch behind her ears and a piece of bacon, then turned his full attention to them. “I have some information for the two of you.”

 

Gendry pulled a crate to the edge of the truck’s tailgate and leaned against it.

 

Arya stood in front of Tyrion, genuine concern stirring to life within her. “What is it?”

 

“I’ve just come from a mandatory family dinner. Joffrey was there, raging over his impending divorce from Margaery. They’re planning something as retribution against your family.” He looked between the two of them. “I couldn't get out what or when, but you need to be prepared. They’ll bring more men than last time. They’re not going to let you get the upper hand and embarrass them again.”

 

Gendry tilted his head. “Why’re you tellin’ us?”

 

“Because I like your family,” he said softly and turned to look at Arya. “Your older brothers were always kind to me. You, dear girl, have always treated me as an equal and not a dwarf. And there are two little ones you’re looking after.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to your family. I want you all safe and...it’s right that I tell you.”

 

Arya swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked over her shoulder at a concerned Gendry. “Do you know anythin’ else about their plans?”

 

“Only that you should keep your cool at all times and don’t give anyone a reason to react to you with violence. Joffrey is stupid enough he would use it to his advantage and hurt you all. Or worse.”

 

The panic in Tyrion’s voice worried her more than his words. If he believed this was true, then it meant it probably was. Gendry settled the two crates by the back door and Arya put a hand on Tyrion's shoulder, letting him know that she’d heard his words. He nodded and handed over his money. Gendry helped her into the truck and Nymeria behind her then closed the door. “Keep them safe,” Tyrion told him.

 

She saw Gendry give him a nod before he climbed in on his side. They were both silent as they rolled down the driveway and out onto the main road, neither seeming to want to talk about it out loud. But the air was thick with anxious energy within the cramped cab.

 

Their next stop was a Mexican that lived down the road from Tyrion. Oberyn Martell made Gendry uneasy, much like Ros made her uneasy. He pulled down the drive and she caught the sour look on his face from the bright moonlight.

 

Oberyn was slouched in a chair on his front porch, a guitar in hand, strumming along the strings quickly. He didn’t stop his playing or even look up as Gendry stopped the truck and they climbed out. Nymeria went to him instantly and nuzzled his shoulder with her nose. Only then did the ardent melody cease. “Hola perro,” he said as he set his guitar down and scratched Nymeria behind the ears. He turned his dark eyes to Arya. “Hola Senora,” he purred like a great cat, a slinky smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 

Arya rolled her eyes but waved in greeting. Oberyn stood, making a display of stretching out his lean figure then propped himself against the post, still smiling while Gendry unloaded his crate from the back of the truck. Arya knew Gendry liked Oberyn even less than he liked Tyrion, and for the sole reason that the Mexican knew he could push his buttons by flirting with his wife.

 

The crate thudded and rattled as Gendry set it on the porch none too gently and _he_ held his hand out to Oberyn for the money. The last time she did it, the other man had taken the opportunity to kiss the back of her hand. She’d nearly had to kick Gendry to snap him out of his temper. She got to enjoy her husband’s enthusiastic attentions later though, claiming she was his and his alone. Ordinarily, that sort of behavior would cause her to punch him, but there was something about being filled with him, his arms wrapped firmly around her, and the words whispered into her ear that almost tempted her to do it again.

 

“I heard the Lannisters are hasslin’ your familia,” Oberyn said. He placed the money in Gendry’s hand who then made a point of counting in front of him. The Mexican only smirked at this.

 

“They’re not even worth talkin’ ‘bout,” Arya replied.

 

Oberyn frowned. “How I would love to see that family put in their place.” His dark eyes turned to Gendry. “Watch over your wife. Men who hurt women don’t care what woman it is.”

 

Gendry looked at Arya over his shoulder and smirked despite his distaste for Oberyn. “Honestly, I almost pity the man that would try with her.” He looked back at Oberyn. “Almost,” he added, his voice lower, more menacing. She shifted her weight, trying to stave off the hot feeling that flooded through her when Gendry became more dominant.

 

Oberyn shook his head, a half-smile on his face. “Jus’ remember that I’m more than willin’ to help put them in the dirt if it comes to that.”

 

Arya frowned. “We hope it doesn’t. But thanks.”

 

Gendry opened the door for her and she leaned up and placed a kiss on his lips before she climbed into the car. “Put Nymeria in the back,” she whispered and he did as she said, the wolf following his commands as she did Arya’s. Gendry climbed in then and they sped away from the house.

 

They had barely made it down the road at all before she had slid her hand along the inside of his thigh to his cock. He pulled off the side of the road, tucking the truck into the trees and turned off the engine and the lights. She was already climbing into his lap as he turned on the seat to face her.

 

Her lips found his in a desperate kiss as she pushed his suspenders over his arms and reached between them to find his rapidly swelling cock. She gasped as his fingers grazed her slit, and teased her nub. She dropped her head back as his lips traced over the length of her neck to the open collar of her dress. Releasing him for a moment she untied the sash at her waist and pushed the top of her dress and camisole off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to him.

 

Gendry wasted no time licking and kissing his way to a hardened tip while she freed his cock from his pants. She moved out of his grasp and slid down the seat. He took her cue and shoved his pants and shorts down as she stroked over the thick length of him. Smiling up at him she snaked her tongue out, tracing along the hot skin, then took the head into her mouth. One of her hands slid beneath his shirt, dragging her nails over the tight muscles as the other pulled at his cock. Arya loved to hear him moan her name. She loved being the one that unraveled him.

 

She couldn't stop herself from sliding her hand into her drawers and touching herself, his moans causing a slickness between her thighs, a throb that eventually only he would be able to slake. But she would take him, like this, for now.

 

His fingers slid through her hair as she bobbed over his cock, taking him as far as she could, groaning as he hit the back of her throat. She released him only to swirl her tongue over the head again, then, right back into her mouth. Her fingers flicked over her clit and she moaned around his cock, which caused one from him as well, his hips thrusting up. She backed off some, letting him take her open mouth as he pleased, and soon he was muttering her name, his fingers tightening in her hair as he came across her tongue.

 

Arya swallowed it down, stroking him gently as he gave half-hearted thrusts into her mouth. She pulled back and watched it twitch a few times as she sat up on her knees. Gendry stared at her as she wiped her mouth, his blue eyes shining in the darkness. He tugged her by his fingers still buried in her hair, bringing her lips to his even as he slid his hands along her abdomen and up to her breasts.

 

She pulled back and put her hands over his. “You can take care of me later,” she whispered. “We’ve still got some deliveries to make.”

 

He grunted and rolled his eyes. “You always expect me to function after you do that.”

 

She chuckled at him as she pulled her clothes on and rebuttoned her dress. “Sorry. I had to have you,” she said with a smile as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I blame you.”

 

“You blame me for everythin’,” he quipped.

 

She shrugged and leaned against his shoulder again after he started the truck. He pulled out onto the main road and Arya entwined her fingers with his, helping him shift gears.

 

*~*

 

**GENDRY**

 

He wanted to crawl into bed with his wife, not drive around the rest of the night. He glanced down at Arya as she leaned into his side. Gendry knew that she was well aware of his distaste for Oberyn, but he thought she might like how possessive it made him feel of her. She was his. He’d kill the man that got the bad idea to move in on her.

 

She directed him to the Greyjoy house next. At least he liked them. She did, too. Yara and Theon were brother and sister. Theon had gone to school with Robb, Jon, and Margaery. From the stories he'd heard, Theon often seemed jealous when Robb directed his attention to Margaery or, even stranger, Jon. Yara, on the other hand, had been outright accused of liking women. There had even been talk in town of someone trying to set her to rights. He knew Ramsay had boasted that he would give it a try if no one else had the balls. Gendry was certain that if he did make an attempt Yara would send his balls to his father in a jar.

 

They pulled up to the house and Theon walked out, greeting them with a wave. Once they’d left the truck, Yara had joined her brother on the porch. “How’s Margaery?” she asked.

 

Arya threw her hand up and shook her head. “No idea. Haven’t seen her.”

 

Theon rolled his eyes. “Give it a rest. Some in this town might buy that, but we all know the only person Margaery would ever run to would be Robb.”

 

Gendry put the crates on their porch. “Twenty-four.”

 

Yara took a deep breath. “Look, we're not tryin’ to cause trouble. We’re just askin’ how she is. Far as we’re concerned, we never even had this conversation.”

 

Gendry exchanged a look with Arya who sighed. “Not that I’m admittin’ to her bein’ there, but if she was, it would be ‘cause Joffrey roughed her up. And _if_ she was there, she’d be better, now, than she was a few weeks ago.”

 

Theon smirked. “Well, _if_ you see her, tell her we’re glad she’s where she belongs.”

 

“Finally,” Yara added and handed over their money to Arya. “Pleasure, as always.”

 

Once they’d pulled out onto the main road again, Nymeria in the cab this time, he looked at his wife. “Margaery is the worst kept secret in the state,” he muttered.

 

She nodded. “Too many people know how attached Robb and Margaery were. I mean, it makes complete sense that she would run to him if she was trying to get out of her marriage.”

 

“Hopefully a lot of this stops once she’s divorced.”

 

Arya shook her head. “You heard Tyrion. They’re plannin’ somethin’.”

 

“You’re awfully willin’ to take his word.”

 

“You saw him, Gendry. He actually looked worried. And he’s never been anythin’ but nice to my family. And to you, too.” She heaved a deep sigh. “I believe him.”

 

He sighed as well and thought about it for a moment. His distrust of Tyrion was only because he was a Lannister. He knew Arya was right, but it was hard to put any faith in a member of the family that killed his father. Arya’s growl filled the cab and he looked over at her in concern. “What?”

 

“Ros is next.”

 

He chuckled and put a hand on her knee. “I endured Oberyn. You can endure Ros.”

 

She grunted in response as he pulled down the long drive. The house looked as it usually did. Fully lit, cars parked across the lawn, a few women seated on the porch in various states of undress. Gendry climbed out, Arya opened her door and let Nymeria hop down then followed her out.

 

One of the women seated on the porch stood and walked down the steps toward him, her stare full of purpose. He shot a look at Arya. “Stay silent and act as if I’m soliciting you,” she whispered as soon as she reached his side. “Your family is in danger. Somethin’ bad is comin’.”

 

“How do you know?” he whispered back, his eyes locked with Arya’s as the woman slid her finger beneath his suspender. He could tell his wife was ready to draw blood.

 

“One of em was in here earlier. Braggin’ ‘bout bringin’ down your ‘shine game with the county sheriff and his men.”

 

Gendry cast a look of concern at Arya as she approached. “When?”

 

“He didn’ say,” she whispered.

 

“Shae, I know you’re not riskin’ your pretty face by solicitin’ the wolf’s man,” Ros’s voice cut through the night air. Arya was now directly behind the girl, her blade in her hand. Shae showed her smarts, moving away quickly, but Arya stayed close by as Ros stopped in front of them. Gendry pulled their crates out of the truck and placed them on the porch. Arya had her hand out to Ros when he turned back around. “Did Shae scare you, sweetie?” Ros trilled at her. “She’s good but not as good as me.”

 

Gendry locked eyes with Arya and winked at her. “I’ve got more than enough woman in my wife. Pay her, Ros,” he said as he walked to Arya’s door and held it open for her. Ros wrinkled her nose, but removed the money from her slip and handed it over to Arya.

 

He got them halfway down the driveway before he huffed out a breath, letting some of his tension go.

 

“What the fuck just happened?” she demanded.

 

“Information. Let’s just say I believe Tyrion now.”

 

“Why? What’d she say?”

 

“Trouble’s comin’. They’re gonna try to bust us with the still. County Sheriff and more.”

 

Arya leaned back against the seat and swore again. “Thorne.” The name sounded like a curse the way she said it. “We have to have the still,” she said. Her voice had changed and he hated the fear he heard in it. “It’s how we’re payin’ for Bran.”

 

He squeezed her thigh. “I know. I think we can safely say it’s gonna happen, though. Bein’ warned by two different people in the same night...”

 

“They all need to know. We need a plan,” she said softly.

 

He looked over at her for a moment, noting how she was chewing on her bottom lip. It was only something she did when her nerves wouldn’t settle. She worried about her family, about her brother, Bran, specifically. She had been there when he’d gotten sick and he knew she hated how helpless she’d felt watching him endure that. He stroked his thumb over the soft skin of her leg. “We’ll figure this out.” She turned her face up to look at him and he gave her a soft smile. “We will. Promise.”

 

*~*

 

They had stopped and picked up Jon where he waited in his usual spot. He’d climbed in the back of the truck avoiding his sister and her teasing, no doubt. With the news they had, Gendry knew there wouldn’t have been much of that out of his wife. They crested the top of the mountain as the sun spilled onto their land. Bronn and Robb joined Jon in the back and he drove them to the barn.

 

Once everyone was gathered inside Gendry stopped them. “We’ve got a problem. We were warned twice tonight that we’re gonna get a visit from the county sheriff and a lot of men. Joffrey is gonna be involved.”

 

Robb groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Who told you this?”

 

The frown that had been on Arya's face the last few hours deepened. “Tyrion told us _somethin’_ was coming. One of the girls at Ros’s gave more details. Said one of the men was in there braggin’. They’re comin’ to catch us makin’ moonshine.”

 

Jon huffed out a breath. “Damnit.”

 

Bronn had remained quiet up until this point and walked around the still examining it closely. Gendry folded his arms over his chest. As the man who built it, he took pride in his work. Bronn crouched down and looked at the bottom of it, then up at them. “How long will it take to pull this apart?”

 

Gendry shrugged. “Depends if it’s runnin’ shine through it or not.”

 

“Let say it is,” he offered.

 

He sighed. “One person? Twenty minutes, maybe more. We’d need the parts underneath being heated by the fire to be cool enough to touch. That’ll delay it a bit.” He tilted his head. “But don’t wanna cool the metal too fast or it could crack.”

 

“And if it’s empty?”

 

“Ten,” he said, crouching beside Bronn to show him how it was held together.

 

“And if there was more than one person? Half that time?”

 

He nodded. “Or more. But the still runs durin’ the day. A lot of the time, we’re all in the fields,” he explained. “Only when we’re packin’ up to drop off are we all in here.”

 

Bronn frowned and looked around at the barn and walked to the back door. “The field can’t be seen from in front of the house. Two of us can run up here, the others can delay them as long as possible. If at all possible, you,” he said pointing at Gendry, “need to be one of the ones in this barn dismantling this thing. We need to hide the pieces and parts in the woods in secured places where no damage will come to them. From there, get back up to the main house, armed, just in case.”

 

Jon heaved a sigh. “And if they catch us unaware and we’re all in the house? Say at night?”

 

He shook his head. “You don't run it then. We’ll take it apart every night after cleaning it. Hide the pieces and parts so everyone knows where they go, and we can all rest easy knowing they can’t get us while we’re sleepin’. The problem is if they catch us while we’re brewin. Where we gonna dump all that shine?”

 

Jon and Robb exchanged a look and the brothers shared a nod, they all watched as Robb stepped to the center of the barn. He bent down and brushed away some hay and dirt, uncovering a small hatch. He lifted it up and pointed down into the hole. “We can dump it down here and whoever goes into the woods can release the valve and drain it.”

 

“Almost forgot about that barrel bein’ down there,” Arya said, perched on the tailgate of the truck. She looked at Jon. “How about you get Rickon to school this mornin’? Gendry needs to be here for this. One a’ us can walk you through it later.”

 

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be back quick as I can.”

 

Once he was gone Gendry showed them how to handle the hot parts with the gloves he’d brought with him from his days welding, and how to cool the metal the right way. Bronn carried a shovel with him into the woods and found a spot on the mountain with enough brush that they could hide the drum. The smaller pieces and parts were marked by spots carved into the trees.

 

They’d done several trials of taking it apart, while it was hot and while it wasn’t. By the time Jon got back from taking Rickon to school, Gendry was ready to fall to the ground in exhaustion.

 

Arya wasn't in any better shape and finally spoke up. “Look, y’all can show Jon the plan without us. We’re dead tired and if I don’t get to bed soon, one a’ you will get a black eye.”

 

Robb laughed. “Gendry, please escort your wife home before violence is unleashed upon us.”

 

Gendry wrapped an arm around Arya’s shoulders. She leaned heavy into his side as they walked to their house. They opened the windows when they got inside and both fell back on the bed without undressing. He kicked his boots off as Arya stretched beside him, then removed her shoes. “Gendry,” she said softly and he looked over at her to see her head propped on her hand. “Can we skip deliverin’ to Ros?”

 

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. You can’t still be worried ‘bout her.”

 

She rolled her eyes but he could see how she looked away from him and down at the blanket. “I’m not worried ‘bout you cheatin’ on me. You know I’d cut your balls off.” He nodded, a smile on his face. “I just don’t like goin’ there.”

 

He rolled over to face her and brought his fingers up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Ros riles you up cause she knows she can.”

 

“It’s not even that,” she huffed out and he tilted her chin up to look at him. Her ever-changing eyes were grey and full of worry. “Do you ever wish I...I looked like them? Or even Margaery?” she whispered.

 

He furrowed his brow, confused. “What d’you mean?”

 

“You know...with actual tits and hips and—“

 

“I’m gonna stop you cause I don’t want you even thinkin’ that. I love you. That means I love all the things ‘bout you, even the ones that drive me fuckin’ mad.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. “I’m perfectly happy with your tits,” he smiled. “They fit in my hands just fine. And your hips, well, there’s enough there for me to grip when we’re fuckin’, so I like those, too.” She let out a slight laugh and pushed at him. “How ‘bout this mouth a’ yours? It suits me just fine when your cussin’, kissin’, or suckin’. So, stop worryin’ ‘bout somethin’ that I ain’t got no problems with.”

 

“You don’t want me curvier? With a rounder bottom or anything?”

 

He tilted his head as he looked at her. He hated she felt so insecure and he knew there was nothing he could really say to make those feelings go away. “Arya, I wouldn’t change a fuckin’ hair on your head. You’re my girl. My only love. And yes, you’re a pain in my _ass_ on a regular basis,” He was relieved to see her smile. “but I wouldn’t change any a’ that for nothin’. I want you just as you are.” He sat up and tugged her up with him. “Let's get you outta this dress,” he murmured.

 

“I don’t want pity sex,” she grumbled and shoved at him.

 

“What pity? You sucked me off in the truck. I thought that was a rain check we were gonna finish later,” he prodded. “I owe you at least one,” he said against her neck, taking a taste of her smooth skin.

 

“Thought you were tired,” she protested, but tilted her head to give him better access.

 

“I am tired. Of other people,” he grunted, sliding his fingers along the inside of her thigh.

 

She let out a hushed gasp when he stroked them over her thin drawers. Her own quickly worked on the buttons of her dress and he broke away to help her pull it and her camisole over her head. Once he had her undressed he pulled her down to straddle him, pressing kisses along her throat, licking his way down her skin while cupping both of her breasts in his hands, pinching her nipples into hard peaks. She ground her hips against his as he flicked his tongue over one hardened tip then sucked it into his mouth. His teeth scraped against her and she bucked against him, her fingers sliding through his hair to hold him there.

 

“Grab a hold of the headboard,” he ordered.

 

She did as he said and he moved down the bed beneath her until she was straddling his face. His head swam with the scent of her and he licked his lips before he rose up and tasted her. She gasped his name and he had to reach up and grab hold of her hips to keep her from grinding down on him. He loved her taste, had told her on numerous occasions, and it was one of the few things he could say that would actually make her blush.

 

He teased her folds, circled around her clit, knowing by her moans how close she was. He slid a finger inside her. Arya always felt so tight. When they first became lovers, he lived in fear of hurting her. But now, they knew one another’s bodies and signals and boundaries as well as their own. He’d make her come at least once before he was inside her, then she'd be ready, her cunt wet and eager for him.

 

She was moaning his name, and he looked up to see her back arched, head thrown back, and her body flushed. He grasped his cock through his britches as he felt her body tensing, and with one more practiced flick of his tongue and pull of his finger she released like a sprung coil. Her legs shook as he slipped his finger free to lap her entrance. She’d barely quit shaking before she crawled off him and tugged on his pants as he worked to rid himself of his shirt.

 

She straddled him, and took his cock in her hand. His breath hitched as he entered her, each inch both agony and sweet relief as she worked herself down until he was buried to the hilt. She was hot, tight, and wet and fucking heaven wrapped around him. He tucked his hands beneath his head, resisting the urge to grab her and go faster. He knew better. She pressed her hands to his chest when she was content and started moving over him in earnest. He took in the sight of her riding him, wild and beautiful. She was all his and he was most definitely hers. Her fear that he found her lacking was absurd. She was perfect as far as he was concerned.

 

He slid his hands up her thighs and gripped her ass, helping her grind over him. She dropped down and took his mouth in a heated kiss and he gripped her hips holding her tight and thrusting up into her. She broke away, gasping his name and he knew she was close. Licking his thumb he began rubbing circles over her clit, dragging up her juices as he went. He was close already, but the feel of her tightening around him, clenching with each thrust, had him praying he could last until she came. “Arya,” he growled as he cupped her breast in his other hand and she fell over the edge, crying out. He lifted her off of him at the last second and pulled her down on top of him, pressing his cock between them. With another thrust and deep groan, his seed spilled across their bellies. She dropped her forehead to his, both breathing erratically, her fingers stroking his cheek as his hands moved over her back.

 

It was several minutes before either of them moved. Arya finally peeled herself off of him giving him a kiss before climbing from the bed and cleaning herself up. She laid the wet rag on his stomach to do the same, then took it from him when finished, leaving it beside the basin. She joined him in bed and he pulled the sheet around them, wrapping an arm around her as he tucked the other beneath his pillow.

 

He was almost asleep when her soft voice broke through his haze. “Gendry?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“You ever think ‘bout us havin’ a baby?”

 

His eyes popped opened, finding her staring at him. He’d thought about it. Maybe more than he wanted to admit, but he didn’t bring it up because he knew she wasn’t ready for that. But now, faced with the question from a woman who could tell if he was lying, he found it hard to force out the words. He finally nodded. “Yeah. I think about it.”

 

“And?”

 

“And what?”

 

“And what do you think?” She elaborated with a swish of her hand.

 

He sighed. “I think...it’d be good, I like the idea, but I don’t know right now would be a good time given we got the law on our backs...”

 

She tilted her head. “You’re not worried ‘bout me not being a good ma?”

 

He couldn’t have been more surprised than if she’d hit him with her shoe. He shook his head emphatically. “No. Never.”

 

“Really? Cause I worry ‘bout it,” she said softly.

 

He reached up and ran his fingers down her cheek. “Arya, I worry ‘bout a lotta things. I worry ‘bout Bran and his health. I worry ‘bout that sheriff comin up here and haulin’ us all to jail or worse.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder. “But I ain’t never worried ‘bout whether or not you’d make a good mama. I’ve seen you with the boys. Remember, I was here when Rickon was a little babe? I saw you takin’ care of him just like Margaery and Sansa did. I see you with Bran and how you treat him like you do Robb an’ Jon cause you know he feels different enough. I even saw you hug Sansa when she left,” he said with a smile. “You love your family. And any baby we have would be fuckin’ lucky to have you as their mama.”

 

She smiled at him. “You ain’t worried ‘bout being a good pa?”

 

He shook his head. “Nope,” he chuckled as she poked him in the ribs. “I got you to keep me in line.”

 

She let out a deep sigh. “When this shit with the Lannisters all blows over, or blows up, I think...I think we should try.”

 

He raised his eyebrows at that. “Really?” She nodded. “But when this shit ends.”

 

She nodded and settled down in the bed again, turning into his side. “‘Fore we go havin’ a baby, though, you’re gonna have to stop swearin’ so much.”

 

He chuckled. “This comin’ from a girl that swears better than any man I ever heard in the army.”

 

“Alright then, when the kid starts cussin the first day a’ school we can blame each other.”

 

Gendry nodded and closed his eyes. “Sounds like a plan. Now, shut up and go to sleep.”

 

She hummed in his ear. “You know how I like it when you tell me what to do in bed.”

 

“Arya, I swear to God, I’ll bend you over my knee and whoop you.”

 

She pressed a kiss to his lips and settled down. “Promises promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you enjoy that chapter? What stood out to you? Arya is taking a lot of pleasure in teasing Jon, isn't she? He'll endure it on a ride in order to see Dany, though. Drop us a comment and let us know what you think, your conspiracy theories, your thoughts on what's gonna happen...we wanna read them all!


	11. And I'll Kneel Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery's divorce is heard in court and plans for the future are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Meisie for the beta on this chapter! She's always so full of good little tidbits that help to make each chapter better. We love you!
> 
> The gorgeous mood board was made by justwanderingneverlost. She does such fabulous work.
> 
> Well, this chapter started off as something completely different court wise. We hope you like this, and we really enjoyed writing this chapter. 
> 
> The song for this chapter, we thought, really fit Robb and Marg's relationship as a whole. I mean, how do you write a song about the Appalachian Mountains without a song heavily featuring a banjo???
> 
> Also, there will be a few chapters where we will put trigger warnings at the beginning. We don't want anyone caught unaware, so please pay attention to the A/Ns. We'll try to mark them so everyone gets notice up front.

 

  
_Well I came home_  
_Like a stone_  
_And I fell heavy into your arms_  
_These days of dust_  
_Which we've known_  
_Will blow away with this new sun_  
_But I'll kneel down_  
_Wait for now_  
_And I'll kneel down_  
_Know my ground_  
_And I will wait, I will wait for you_  
_And I will wait, I will wait for you_  
_So break my step_  
_And relent_  
_You forgave and I won't forget_  
_Know what we've seen_  
_And him with less_  
_Now in some way_  
_Shake the excess_  
_'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you_  
_And I will wait, I will wait for you_  
_And I will wait, I will wait for you_  
_And I will wait, I will wait for you_  
_Now I'll be bold_  
_As well as strong_  
_And use my head alongside my heart_  
_So take my flesh_  
_And fix my eyes_  
_A tethered mind free from the lies_  
_And I'll kneel down_  
_Wait for now_  
_I'll kneel down_  
_Know my ground_  
_Raise my hands_  
_Paint my spirit gold_  
_And bow my head_  
_Keep my heart slow_  
_'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you_  
  
  
_I Will Wait_  
_**Mumford and Sons**_

 

**ROBB**

 

He sat on the edge of the bed as Margaery packed her make-up into a bag then put it in the open suitcase beside him. Next was her hairbrush, comb, and some of the cream she used on her skin at night. He hated this. He knew it wasn’t permanent, but that didn’t change the fact that watching her leave created an ache in his chest he didn’t really want to acknowledge.

 

He was staring at the floor when her feet were suddenly in view and she wasn’t moving. He lifted his head to see the same sad look upon her face that he was sure was on his. Before he knew it, she was sitting across his lap and her arms were around him. “I don’t want to go.”

 

He buried his face in her neck and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “Believe me, I don’t want ya to, either.” He sighed. “I just keep tellin’ myself that it’s what’s best for court tomorrow.”

 

She leaned her head against his as his hand slid over her flat belly. “I was hoping I’d never have to sleep apart from you again.”

 

“Believe me, darlin’, I was hopin’ the same thing,” he whispered. They sat like that for a few more minutes before she placed a kiss on his lips, stood, and finished packing her things inside the suitcase. He stood as well and walked to the door.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Watchin’ you pack is makin’ me more miserable. I’m gonna find Jon or Bronn and take it out on them,” he said with a smile.

 

She shook her head and laughed. “You better be careful, Bronn’ll shoot you.”

 

He smirked. “Jon it is, then.”

 

She laughed louder as he opened the door and left the room. He found Jon sitting with Bran on the porch, the shavings from Bran’s whittling covered the flood boards at his feet. Rickon was being chased by Shaggydog. The wolf tackled him and they rolled on the ground together, the little boy’s laughter echoing into the air.

 

“What’s wrong?” Bran asked him, causing Jon to look up at him as well.

 

“Margaery’s packin’.” Bran and Jon were now both looking at him with something close to pity and he rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

 

“You know for sure she’s comin’ back this time,” Bran said, trying to be helpful, but only causing the butterflies in his stomach to grow into buzzards.

 

Robb looked back at Rickon as he rolled in the grass with Shaggydog. “Rickon, get up or you’re gonna start itchin’.”

 

“Aw, Robb, I was just playin’!”

 

A car pulled over the hill and Robb bit back a groan recognizing Margaery’s brothers. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Garlan or Loras, but he knew she was to leave sooner than even he had hoped. Both men stepped out of the car in pristine suits. Loras extended a hand to Robb and he shook it, Jon doing the same.

 

“Finally going to get Margaery away from Joffrey for good,” Loras said with a reassuring smile. “Never should have married him in the first place.”

 

“We all agree on that.”

 

Loras shook his head and shrugged. “My grandmother usually gets what she wants. Doesn’t matter what the rest of us think about it.”

 

Garlan spoke then. “She almost ready?”

 

Robb nodded. “I’ll go get her,” he said softly then turned and walked through the house and to the bedroom to find Margaery sitting on the bed biting her nails. “Your grandmother would have a fit if she saw you doin’ that.”

 

She looked up at him, then moved across the room and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

 

He pressed his forehead against hers and cupped her face. “I love you, too. Have for so long I don’t remember what it feels like to not.” He stood up straight. “You’ll see me tomorrow.” Robb wasn't sure if he was saying it for her benefit or his.

 

She smiled. “You’re still plannin’ to come?”

 

“Hell or high water,” he said as he placed a kiss on her lips. “Gotta make sure my girl is safe,” he whispered.

 

She leaned into him for another kiss and when she pulled away he saw the tears rolling down her face. “This is so silly! I’ll see you tomorrow. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

 

He swiped at them with his thumbs. “Remember, it’s you and me. We can take on anythin’.”

 

She nodded and he released her, then grabbed the handle of her suitcase and followed her out of the room and into the sunshine. Rickon ran over to her and wrapped his arms around her legs. She crouched down in front of him for a proper hug, holding him to her. Robb watched as his little brother pulled away, frowning. “You’ll be back?”

 

She smiled and bopped his freckled nose. “Of course. I promised I’d come back, didn’t I?” He nodded. “Then you know I will. Besides, I can’t leave you to have Jon or Robb sing you to sleep. That would give you nightmares for sure.”

 

Rickon giggled and ran to stand with Jon. Robb handed her suitcase over to Garlan who put it in the trunk as she turned to Bran and placed a kiss on his head. He held up the piece he’d been working on. “For you.” Robb smiled seeing it was a rose.

 

She took it, smiling through more tears, then placed another kiss on his head. “It’s beautiful, Bran. Thank you. Will you put it by my bed so I have it when I come back?”

 

Rickon held out his hand. “I will!” he volunteered. Margaery handed it to him and Robb held the door open for him, chuckling as he took slow measured steps to the bedroom. When he turned back to Margaery she was pulling away from a hug with Jon.

 

Loras went to the car and held the back door open for her. Robb walked her over. She hugged him one more time. “See you tomorrow,” he reminded her.

 

She pulled away and nodded, placing a soft kiss upon his lips before she climbed in and he closed the door behind her. Loras gave a wave as they drove off leaving Robb staring off down the hill after them.

 

Jon nudged him with his elbow. “You alright?”

 

“Do I have a choice?”

 

He sighed and folded his arms over his chest. “I reckon ya don’t. Hopefully, all a’ this’ll be over soon.”

 

Robb frowned. “And then we’ll have to deal with whatever retribution the Lannisters decide to reap on us.”

 

“We can handle it. The pack is always stronger together.”

 

“They killed Pa. What makes you think they won’t kill us?”

 

Jon shook his head and turned to face him fully. “She worth it?”

 

Robb heaved a sigh. “Worth dyin’ for? Seems selfish to say _yes_ when we have Rickon and Bran to worry ‘bout.”

 

“Then be selfish for a few minutes. Is she worth it to _you_?”

 

Robb looked at him and nodded. “To me, yes.”

 

Jon clapped a hand on his back. “Then fight for her and the rest a’ us’ll fight for you.”

 

Robb eyed him critically. “You’re far too optimistic to be my brother. What has that teacher done to you?”

 

Jon rolled his eyes. “I hate you sometimes.”

 

He chuckled. “She’s got you smilin’ all the time. You’re not as guarded. Those are good things.”

 

“Until they’re thrown in my face.”

 

He shrugged. “You goin’ to see her tonight?”

 

Jon nodded. “Unless you want me to stay in which case...I’m still goin’.” They both laughed.

 

Robb tilted his head and looked at him. “We ever gonna get to meet her?”

 

“Everyone’s met her.”

 

“I haven’t,” he reminded. “It’s why I asked.”

 

“Well, everyone that matters has met her,” he said with a smirk.

 

Robb shook his head. “You’re too damn chipper. Where’s my brother who brooded all the fuckin’ time? You start gettin’ fucked on a regular basis and you’re almost fuckin’ giddy. It’s disgustin’.”

 

Jon leveled a glare at him. “What’s happenin’ here? Margaery leaves for the night so you decide to be an ass to me?”

 

He groaned and hung his head. “No. I’m not tryin’ to be an asshole.”

 

“Well, I hope you don’t start tryin’. You were doin’ a splendid job just now.”

 

Robb folded his arms over his chest and took a deep breath. Jon was right, he was taking out his irritation on him. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Jon smacked him on the arm and headed towards the barn. Gendry was walking down from his front porch headed the same way. Robb looked over at Bran. “Y’all behave while we're workin’. I’ll be in when we’re done.”

 

Bran gave a nod and Rickon opened the door for him to roll his chair into the house. He could do this. He could make it a few hours without Margaery. He managed to do months without her. Nearly drank himself blind the night of her wedding. This wasn’t nearly as tragic as that. He just had to remind himself that she’d be back and this would all go the way they wanted it to.

 

*~*

 

He’d taken a bath and was wearing the only suit he owned. It was still too hot to wear so many layers, in his opinion, but he had to look presentable to the world if he was going to this farce of a hearing. He didn’t care what happened so long as Margaery returned to him at the end of it all.

 

He exited his room to a whistle from Bronn who was seated at the table. “Look who’s all gussied up.”

 

Rolling his eyes he went and poured a cup of coffee, trying to find something to help ease his exhaustion from his lack of sleep that night. He’d become so used to her presence, sleeping without her at his side appeared to be something he wasn’t capable of doing any longer. “You comin’ with me?”

 

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Bronn answered as he sipped at his own coffee. “Your sister thought it might be a good idea if you had someone at your side. She’s offered to stay here with Bran, Gendry said he had somethin’ that needed fixin’ on the truck, and Jon’s tendin’ the still until he or Gendry go get Rickon from school.”

 

“Think it will take that long?”

 

“Depends on the judge, I reckon.”

 

He took a deep breath and sipped at his coffee. “Feels like now would be a good time to be drunk. Might not care about the outcome so much.”

 

Bronn folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe. Then again, could make you a ravin’ fool. Drunkenness goes only so many ways.”

 

Robb nodded and finished his coffee. “What time is it?”

 

“Time to leave,” Bronn said as he stood and slid on his jacket and hat.

 

*~*

 

They stayed across the street from the courthouse, watching people come and go. Robb had his back to it, eyeing the cars that rode around the square. Highgarden was in the opposite direction, which is why Bronn was watching and Robb wasn’t.

 

“Here we go,” Bronn said. “Lannister’s are here first. Tywin’s with him. Not a hair of Jaime or Tyrion,” he remarked. “Looks like the little weasel is representing them.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Baelish.”

 

“Baelish? That man makes me uncomfortable,” he stated.

 

“Yeah, well, he probably should. He’s a right prick under the best of circumstances. As a lawyer, he’s even more shrewd.”

 

“How d’you know all a’ this?” Robb asked.

 

Bronn rolled his eyes. “What do you think Olenna had me doin’ all these years? Knittin’? I’ve got intel on every family within the state and a few powerful ones in surrounding states. That woman knows exactly what she’s doin’ and is wealthy enough to make sure she gets what she wants at every turn.”

 

He sent a dark glare his way. “She wanted Margaery to stay married to Joffrey.”

 

Bronn wrinkled his nose. “Maybe. Then again, maybe she worried about the kind of life she’d have with you. It took Margaery standing up to her to make her back down, right?”

 

“More or less.”

 

He shrugged. “I know one thing about Olenna, her family means everythin’ to her, especially Margaery. She would never want her hurt. Who’s to say that Joffrey wouldn’t have had a tumble down the stairs if she had gone back? Or choked on a piece of pie? She wouldn’t have let what happened to her stand,” he said with a certainty that made Robb nervous. “There they are. Beric is with them.”

 

“Beric Dondarrion?” Robb stopped. “He’s the best lawyer in the state.”

 

Bronn smirked. “It’s amazin’ to me that you’re surprised.”

 

“They gone in yet?”

 

He waited then nodded. “Inside. Let’s go,” he said and they crossed the street and took the steps into the courthouse. When they got inside, Bronn caught sight of Margaery and nodded. “Spotted the princess.”

 

Robb turned and saw her enter a courtroom with her grandmother, father, and brothers. They followed them inside and the Tyrell’s all looked at him and Bronn. Garlan whispered something to Beric and soon the man was making his way over to them and extended his hand. “Mister Blackwater, Mister Stark. Beric Dondarrion,” he introduced himself. “Get out of this courtroom.”

 

Robb frowned. “What?”

 

“You can’t be here,” he hissed. “We’re trying to prove that you aren’t involved. I can’t very well do that if you’re sitting in the gallery. Do what’s best for Margaery and leave. Quickly.”

 

Robb caught Margaery’s eye across the courtroom and he watched her press her lips together, her brow furrowed. Her grandmother put a hand on her forearm, but she didn’t break his gaze. He knew it was for the best, but he wouldn’t leave the courthouse. He’d stay to see what they could hear from the hallway. He nodded at her and she returned it, offering a weak smile.

 

They went into the hallway and Bronn suddenly pulled him into a courtroom on the opposite side of the hallway. “What the–” He cut his question short as Bronn put a finger to his lips and cracked the door to let him see the Lannisters enter the courtroom. The bailiff followed them inside. They waited for the voice of the bailiff to sound from inside. Once it did, he and Bronn left their hiding place.

 

He’d have to find out his future through the mumblings coming through the wooden doors.

 

*~*

 

It had been nearly three hours and Robb was ready to climb the walls. He was already pacing the floors while Bronn kept his ear close to the door, appearing to just be leaning against it.

 

They both came to attention when Joffrey’s voice came from inside, practically screaming, and the sound of the gavel cracking. He moved a bit closer but the screaming had stopped once he was near enough to hear.

 

“What was that? What’d he say?”

 

Bronn smirked. “He said, and I quote ‘that whore doesn’t know her place, but I showed her once and I’ll show her again!’ End quote.”

 

Robb heaved a sigh. “That’s gotta be good for Margaery’s side, right?”

 

Bronn shrugged and shook his head. “Don’t know. Go back to pacin’ and let me listen,” he ordered and Robb resumed his walking up and down the hallway. He wasn’t sure how long had passed before Bronn was rushing away from the door and grabbing him to duck into the empty courtroom again.

 

“I want that bitch’s head on a pike!” Joffrey wailed.

 

“Keep your mouth closed,” Tywin's voice cut through his tirade. “We’ll get revenge on the Tyrells and the Starks and anyone else that’s caused this humiliation today. But in the car, you and I are going to have a conversation about you and your inability to shut your mouth.”

 

“She’s the one havin’ an affair and I’m made to look like a monster!”

 

“Shut. Your. Mouth,” Tywin ordered. They didn’t hear anything else from Joffrey, and Bronn cracked the door to watch them walk down the hallway.

 

He tilted his head and looked at Robb, his expression one of amusement. “Oh, I know, they threatened your family, but focus on the one funny part of all this.”

 

“Which is?” Robb asked.

 

Bronn smiled. “Tywin is gonna tear into Joffrey on their way home. Maybe we'll even get lucky and he’ll send him for a nice long visit with his Mama in that fancy hospital she's in.”

 

Robb hesitated for a minute, then huffed out a bitter laugh. “Even that’d be too good for em.”

 

Bronn opened the door and crossed to the courtroom to find it empty. “Imagine that, they didn’t wait for us. Reckon we’ll have to take a ride out to Highgarden.”

 

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

 

Bronn snorted. “Nothin’ the two a’ you have done for the last month has been a good idea. Why stop makin’ bad decisions now?”

 

Robb rolled his eyes and followed Bronn out of the courthouse.

 

*~*

 

They pulled up to Highgarden and Bronn looked over at Robb from the driver’s seat. “You ever been here before?”

 

Robb nodded. “A few times. Our Pa’s used to be friends.”

 

“Til Tywin had yours killed, you mean?” Robb looked at him, eyes narrowed. Bronn waved a hand and shook his head. “I don’t know nothin’. I just heard Jon and Gendry talkin’ ‘bout it.”

 

Robb climbed out of the car and the front door opened. Before he could even react, Margaery was racing toward him and threw her arms around his neck. He held her tight, even lifting her off her feet before he put her down and pulled back a little. She had tears running down her face and he felt worry lodge itself in his chest. “Tell me you’re divorced.”

 

She nodded and he embraced her again. “Put her down and come inside. We have a lot to discuss, Robb Stark,” Olenna’s voice called.

 

Margaery didn’t immediately release him so he didn’t let her go either. He kissed her temple and heard her take in a deep breath. She finally let him go and held his hand as they entered the large estate house. “Are you alright?” Robb questioned.

 

She smiled up at him and nodded. “Better than,” she replied.

 

“Robb Stark, have a seat,” Olenna said as she gestured to one of the chairs across from her place on the sofa. Mace sat beside her as Margaery took a seat in the chair by his, never releasing his hand.

 

Olenna took a deep breath before she sipped her tea. “Is that the only suit you own?”

 

Her question caught him off guard but not even her spiteful tongue could ruin his good mood. “It is. Don’t have much use for suits on the farm.”

 

She shook her head. “Mace, get a pen and paper. We’re going to need to keep a list of things we’ll need.”

 

Margaery tilted her head in confusion. “Need for what?”

 

“Your impending wedding,” she said as she told Mace to sit and write down _tailored suit_.

 

Margaery frowned. “Grandmother, we aren’t engaged. I’ve only been divorced for an hour.”

 

“Yes, and we have thirty days to plan. We’ll talk to Haymond Sparrow about letting you marry in the church.”

 

Robb shook his head and held up a hand. “I’m sure you’re used to gettin’ your way, but you’re not plannin’ any weddin’ between Margaery and me.”

 

Olenna raised an eyebrow at him. “And why the devil not?”

 

He wrinkled his brow. “First, any weddin’ in a church will cause other people to come and the last thing we want is the Lannisters droppin’ in to ruin the ceremony. Second, and this is the most important, it’s _our_ weddin’.”

 

“Boy, do you have any idea how much flowers and suits and all that cost?”

 

Robb shook his head. “No, but you planned her last weddin’ and how did that work out?”

 

Mace coughed and Margaery squeezed his hand. It was only Bronn entering the room with a sandwich that caused Olenna to break her glare at him and shift it to the newcomer. “Are you _eating_ in my parlor?”

 

He nodded and took a bite. “I am,” he said and swallowed the bite in his mouth.

 

Margaery leaned over to Robb as Olenna stood and walked over to Bronn telling him off for what he was doing. “Where do you want to get married if not the church?”

 

He put his mouth to her ear. “I’d like to at least ask ya before we start any plans.”

 

She smiled and nodded. “Very well. Now I know what to argue for with her.”

 

When Olenna returned to her seat and Bronn had vacated the room, Margaery sighed and stood. “Grandmother, while I appreciate your help, I have thirty days before I can get married. And, Robb hasn’t asked me to marry him.”

 

Olenna’s eyes snapped to Robb. “Oh? Why not?”

 

“Up until an hour ago, she was still married. I figured she should be outta that one before she thought about another one.”

 

Olenna shook her head. “Boy, you had better do right by my granddaughter or I’ll make you rue the day you were born.”

 

Robb took a deep breath. “I love your granddaughter more than I can even say. She’s the world to me. You said we got thirty days, well, let me have those thirty days to talk to her about what it is we both want.”

 

“Boy...”

 

“Robb,” Margaery corrected. “I’ll go get my things so we can leave.”

 

“Young lady,” Mace stopped her. “You’ll stay here until you’re married.”

 

Olenna hit him on the arm. “Hush.” She looked at Robb and stood, leaning her weight on her cane. “I’m going to leave Bronn with you for her safety.” She looked at Margaery and nodded at her. “Go get your things.”

 

“Mother...”

 

Olenna turned to her son. “Where do you think she’s been staying this whole time? You’re going to have a problem with it now?” She shook her head and walked with Robb out to the foryar. “My future great grandchild is in your care, Robb Stark. Do not be a fool. If you find yourself in over your head with issues of money or need for protection, you tell me.”

 

Robb nodded. “You should know that Tywin made a threat against both our families.”

 

She scoffed. “I can handle Tywin Lannister just fine. Can you?”

 

Robb sighed. “We’ll be smarter, and ready.”

 

“Keep them safe. I’m trusting you with the most precious thing I have. And my warning still stands. If something happens to her, I’ll come after you.” He nodded and looked up the stairs as Margaery came down. “Seeing as time is of the most importance in this case, proposing sooner rather than later would be most beneficial.”

 

Margaery placed her suitcase on the ground and went into the living room, hugged her father, and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Mace,” Olenna called. “Go into the kitchen and tell Bronn he’s leaving.”

 

Mace did what he was told after he stopped and shook Robb’s hand. Olenna hugged her granddaughter. “I’ll come see you in a few days,” she told Margaery.

 

She smiled as she pulled away. “I look forward to the visit.” Robb grabbed her suitcase and held the door open for her. Bronn followed seconds later. Robb trotted to the car and put her suitcase in the back seat.

 

Bronn tilted his head at the two as they stood by the side of the car staring at one another. “Whatever you two are gonna do tonight, don’t do it in the house. You’ll scare the children,” he said as he climbed into the driver’s side.

 

Margaery rolled her eyes but leaned into Robb for another kiss. “It feels good to be able to kiss you, now, free from my marriage.”

 

“Can we get a move on? You know all of them on the mountain want to know what’s happened. And, I feel a nap comin' on.”

 

Robb held open the door for her and she sat between them, taking Robb’s hand after she tied her scarf around her head. “When do you think Jon will let us meet his girl?” Margaery questioned.

 

“Never,” Bronn said with a smile, “If he was smart. That boy has been more distracted than usual, lately. I reckon havin’ sex as much as he is does that to a man.”

 

Robb wrinkled his nose. “I’d rather not think about Jon havin’ sex if it’s all the same to you.”

 

Margaery laughed and leaned her head in Robb’s shoulder and placed their joined hands on her lap.

 

*~*

 

They waited until Margaery got Rickon tucked in and asleep before they gathered to talk about what happened. Arya and Gendry had even waited to make deliveries. Robb was seated at the table with Jon. Arya, Bronn, and Gendry were leaned against the counter. Jon stood when she came out of the back.

 

She chuckled. “Quite the spotlight I’ve got,” she said, taking the seat Jon had given her. She looked at Gendry and Arya and took a deep breath. Robb reached beneath the table and took her hand. “Well, the first thing that Baelish did was to say I had left Joffrey for Robb and had been living up here with him since. The only problem was, no one, not even Joffrey, had seen me. Instead, my family was all willing to testify that they had seen the bruises of his fingers on my throat, my eye swollen, my nose bloody, my lip bleeding, and my clothes torn.”

 

She shook her head. “But they kept harping on my relationship with Robb. And Baelish did a good job of setting up Joffrey for easy questions about how hard he had looked for me, how my family and you had all turned him away, keeping him from trying to reconcile.” She smiled then. “But Beric is the best lawyer in the state for a reason. When he started asking Joffrey questions he started to lose his temper. When Beric ask why I left, Joffrey said he couldn’t remember. Beric asked what he thought a wife’s role was and he said to take care of his physical needs when he wanted it.  Beric followed that up with _‘what if she says no?’_

 

Arya and Jon both snorted at that. She grinned at them.

 

“Joffery sputtered, but the judge forced him to answer and that’s when he screamed out, ‘ _That whore got exactly what she deserved.’”_ She looked down at their hands as Robb gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Judge Aemon told him to get ahold of himself. But Beric’s next question was the clincher, I think. He asked Joffrey if he would hurt me again if I said no to his advances. Joffrey said not as long as I followed his orders. The judge got up to deliberate and Joffrey threatened me again, saying I would pay for all of this. Judge Aemon was still at the door. He heard him and turned right around and came back to the bench. He pronounced I was granted my divorce, Joffrey would have to pay for my legal fees, and that neither of us could get married for thirty days.”

 

Jon frowned. “What’d your grandmother say?”

 

She chuckled. “That he should be glad she, nor Loras had brought their pistols. Garlan said that even he could hit Joffrey in the head since it was so big. My father pointed out that Tywin was nearly puce by the time Joffrey got off the stand.” She shook her head. “I may go to hell for swearing on a bible that I wasn’t here, but I’ve never been as happy as I am now.”

 

“Glad you're free of em,” Arya said, then looked at Gendry. “Let’s go. Jon, you comin’?” The wicked smirk on her face made them all groan even as Jon blushed.

 

“I really don’t like you, sometimes,” he muttered as he walked towards the door.

 

“Not true! I’m your favorite!” she laughed after him, Gendry following behind and shaking his head.

 

Bronn looked at Margaery and gave her a small smile. “Glad things worked out.”

 

“Trouble ain’t over, yet,” Robb added. “You heard Tywin.”

 

He nodded. “I did. Which is why her trainin’ with a gun needs to start sooner rather than later.”

 

Margaery's expression could only be described as affronted. “What makes you think I can’t shoot a gun?” she questioned.

 

Robb looked at Bronn, then back at Margaery. “We assumed...”

 

“Hmm, perhaps you ought to ask before you make assumptions. I learned how to shoot right beside Loras.”

 

Bronn nodded and smiled. “Then you need a gun, and it needs to be ready to fire.”

 

“We can hide it in the kitchen,” she said as she stood and opened a cabinet to find a disused bread box. “In here.”

 

“I’ve got a pistol in my room. I’ll tuck it away in there for you before morning,” Bronn said as he stood. “I’ll be in my room, listening for either of the boys,” he said with a wink at Margaery and Robb rolled his eyes.

 

She walked back to him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Take me outside, Robb. I want our spot, and I want you to take me,” she said softly.

 

Robb pushed his chair back from the table and held her hand in his as he led her out the back door and down the familiar path. She stopped when she saw a lantern lit and a blanket already covering the ground. “I love it when you come prepared,” she said as she turned into his arms and pressed her lips to his.

 

He broke the kiss, still holding her, and pressed his forehead to hers. “Today was a good day,” he said softly and she nodded as her hands moved over his arms.

 

“It’s about to be even better.”

 

He smiled and reached into his pocket and removed a gray, silk handkerchief. “The last time I asked ya to marry me, I didn’t really ask so much as demand we elope.” He unwrapped the piece of silk and held up a shiny silver and diamond ring. “I’m gonna do it right this time.”

 

A smile spread across her face as he sank down to one knee, her left hand held in his. “There’s lots of reasons I wanna marry you. But the most important to me is that I love you. I will never love anyone else. Since the day I met you, wearing’ that pale blue dress and your hair in long braids, I’ve known that you were the only girl for me.” He smiled and started sliding the ring on her finger. “You’re my family and you have been for a long time. We’re havin’ a baby.” He smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “So, Margaery _Tyrell_ , will you do me the honor of bein’ my wife?”

 

She let out a hiccup and launched herself into his arms, sending him backwards onto the blanket. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!” She covered his face in kisses as he still tried to catch his breath from his collision with the ground. When her lips lingered against his, though, he cupped her face and swiped at the tears that rolled down her cheeks, frowning at her. “They’re happy tears. The happiest,” she whispered. “Now, help me get my clothes off so we can celebrate proper.”

 

She straddled his hips and he pulled her closer, knowing he could never have her close enough. He slid his hands over her waist and slowly along to the buttons of her dress, undoing each one until her pink slip was exposed. He sat back and watched her shrug out of the dress then pull it over her head. She turned to the buttons of his shirt, the starched fabric uncomfortable, so different from his everyday clothes. He was more than ready to have it off. She slid her fingers down the seam and when she reached a button, flicked her thumb, releasing it. As soon as she had them all undone she pushed it off his shoulders and tossed it to the side with her dress.

 

She rose up on her knees, and slowly bunched up the hem of her slip. Robb helped her pull it the rest of the way off. That left her in nothing but her stockings, garter belt, and drawers. Instead of removing those, her hands worked at the buttons of his britches. She moved off of him to tug them down his legs. Robb was so transfixed watching her move, seeing that bright smile on her face, he was left stunned.

 

He shook himself a bit, trying to bring himself back to what they were doing rather than focusing on how her hands brushed his thighs as she helped rid him of britches and shorts. It struck him he was stark naked, but she wasn't.

 

He reached for her, rolling her to her back and placing a kiss to each rosy nipple before he moved between her spread thighs. He pulled her drawers down, leaving her in her stockings and garters. She caught his hand and shook her head. “Not now. I want you inside me. I’m yours. Show me that you’re mine,” she whispered as she pulled him over her.

 

He caught her mouth in a soul-rending kiss, hearing those words from her tore him apart just as they made him whole. She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing his cock against her wet folds. He broke the kiss long enough to look between them and slid inside. Her back arched as he began moving and cupped her breast in his hand, taking the hardened peak into his mouth. He gripped her hip with his other, each thrust an experiment in control. All he really wanted to do was fuck her so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk upright. He smiled against her breast at the thought, then moved to the other.

 

“Robb, more,” she moaned.

 

He pulled away from her breast and propped himself on his hands on either side of her head. “How much more?” he questioned.

 

She reached up for him and pulled him down to her. “Harder, faster. Claim me, make me yours,” she breathed before her mouth caught his in a fierce kiss.

 

He released her and sat back on his knees, rubbing his hands along the tops of her thighs, causing her to shiver beneath him. He unlinked her ankles and placed his hands beneath her legs and pushed them up until he had her knees nearly to her shoulders, his hands pressing on the back of her thighs, holding her open. Margaery licked her lips as he began thrusting with hard jabs inside her. Her moans echoed through the woods, her head thrown back, exposing her long neck. Unblemished. He’d fix that problem before the night was out.

 

Her fingers brushed against him as she began working the little bud of her sex. He watched her bring herself closer to the edge, able to feel her impending climax with the fluttering of her sheath around him. He knew she was nearly there and pulled her fingers away at the same time he pulled out of her. The groan of frustration she released was music to his ears.

 

He let her catch her breath, a smile on his face to see the petulant pout on hers. He ended her agony, though, when he leaned down and took her clit into his mouth, sucking, licking, even scraping his teeth against it. She gripped his wrists, fighting against his hold on her, her nails digging into his flesh. He loved driving her wild. He loved watching her get close and then back off, seeing that spark behind her eyes that told him if he did it again she’d murder him in his sleep. He released her clit but he made sure to lick every inch on her cunt before thrusting his tongue inside her to lap up her arousal.

 

His name was panted into the darkness, drowning out the calls and cries of the night creatures. She gripped his hair in stinging handfuls, letting him know without saying it that he better give her what she wanted, and he was only too happy to comply. His tongue was flicking over the little bud and she cried out as she fell over the edge as he sucked it into his mouth once more. He used his thumb to continue rubbing over it, letting her ride out her climax for as long as possible as he lapped at her entrance. Thoughts of her taste had sustained him while she was away. He was fairly confident Joffrey wasn’t the sort of man who would ever put his mouth on her, and so it was strictly him that had a taste of her. The possessive part of him liked that thought more than he wanted to acknowledge.

 

He sat back and hauled her up by her arms and into his. His mouth caught hers in a heated kiss as she maneuvered around to let him slide inside her again. He slipped his hand into her hair and gently pulled, exposing her neck to him as he scraped his teeth over her pulse. She tugged back on his hair, obviously realizing what he was doing and she pressed her forehead against his, determination on her face as she moved faster in his arms.

 

Rolling down onto his back, he let her ride him. She appeared only too happy to have control, leaning back and pressing her hands into his thighs as she moved. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her blonde hair drifting down her back, her head thrown back as she gasped, and her breasts bouncing with her every thrust. He stared at her flat belly for a moment, trying to imagine it swollen with their child. He smiled, thinking she would still be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And still, his eyes wandered lower to the place where they were joined. The sight of him disappearing inside her with each thrust was nearly his undoing. He was dangerously close to drifting to the edge. He licked his thumb and circled the little nub of her sex and she seized on top of him, going still as her cunt clenched around him, groaning at the grasp, tight and fluttering. Every slow movement of her hips took him closer and closer.

 

Her head dropped forward and she placed her hands squarely on his chest. He captured her hips and sped her movements up, feeling the familiar tingle of his own climax close in. He remembered, in the past, he used to tell her at this point that he was close. She would either take him into her mouth or let him spill across her flawless skin. The memory of her mouth around his cock as he released across her tongue caused the dam inside to break and he came, bringing his hips against hers over and over again until he was spent.

 

In the afterglow, he was acutely aware of all the places their bodies were touching and how content it made him. Her blonde head rested on his shoulder as her fingers danced through the smattering of hair on his chest.

 

She lifted her hand looking at the ring on her finger. “How long have you had this?” she questioned.

 

“It was mother’s,” he explained. “Pa gave it to Bran for safe keepin’ while we were at war. When I got back, he gave it to me, said Pa told him it would look mighty pretty on you someday.”

 

As she lifted her head, her smile was sad. “Your Pa always knew we’d end up together. Told me so himself.”

 

He smiled. “That’s cause everyone could see that we was the other half a’ each other.” He pressed a kiss to her hand. “I’d been carryin’ that around with me all day. I put it outta my mind cause I just couldn’t worry ‘bout what would happen after we finally got what we wanted.”

 

She tilted her head, a grin forming on her face. “So all that arguing with my grandmother...”

 

He chuckled. “I can’t let her think she’s gonna have say in our relationship. It’s ours and we’ll do what we want when we want. Just so happens I planned to do this all along. And...I like pissin’ her off.”

 

She chuckled. “That’s a dangerous line to walk there, Robb Stark.”

 

He rolled to his side, facing her and grinned. “You’re tellin’ me? She’s already threatened me. But you’re worth it. Worth everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think? Margaery is free from her marriage from Joffrey but nothing gets easier. 
> 
> Jon's up next!


	12. And I Love Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany get some alone time. Trouble comes to those at Winter's Peak and people left behind are traumatized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter was difficult to write. When we first started planning this fic, and I pitched this idea to JW, she was totally onboard. Because, like all of you, we KNOW that the Lannisters and the Boltons are not going to allow anything that has happened to go unanswered. Here's a very loud, very hard shot. The family is greatly affected. But the trigger warning is for violence and specifically child abuse. Some of you may know me and know that it is just something I don't tolerate as something to take lightly. What happens in this chapter has long-lasting effects for several members of this family, specifically the youngest of them. We tried to handle it with as much care and love as we could. To that point, the events that happen are important to the story, but if you don't want to read it, I will give you a summary of the events in the endnotes so you have the gist. That being said thank you for reading and leaving us all the love for the last twelve chapters. Some questions are raised by this chapter, and some will start to be answered in the following chapters. We hope, even though there is some really tough stuff to read in the middle, that you like the other parts of this chapter.**
> 
>  
> 
> The gorgeous mood board was made by the lovely JW (justwanderingneverlost). 
> 
> The lullaby used in this chapter is from the movie "O brother, where art thou" and it's actually the song the sirens sing, but we liked it better used in this place to soothe the riled and distraught Rickon.

 

 

_**TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: VIOLENCE, CHILD ABUSE, HINTS AT SEXUAL ASSAULT** _

**JON**

_She's a whistle on the wind_  
_A feather on the breeze_  
_A ripple on the stream_  
_She is sunlight on the sea_  
_She's a soft summer rain_  
_Falling gently through the trees_  
_And I love her_

_She's cunning as a fox_  
_Clever as a crow_  
_Solid as a rock_  
_She is stubborn as a stone_  
_She's a hard headed woman_  
_And the best one that I know_  
_And I love her_  
_Yeah, well I love her_

_She's as new as the springtime_  
_Strong as autumn blows_  
_Warm as the summer_  
_And soft as the snow_  
_She's a thousand miles from here_  
_But she's everywhere I go_  
_'Cause I love her_

_She loves me like a woman_  
_She looks like a lady_  
_She laughs like a child_  
_And cries like a baby_  
_I think that maybe she's the one  
_ _that's gonna save me_

_And I Love Her  
**Passenger** _

__

 

Like most nights of late, he could see her, waiting for him. A soft light from somewhere deep inside her house leaving her silhouetted in her back door. From the looks of it, she wasn't wearing much, if anything, all her luscious curves unhidden.

 

His already racing heart threatened to burst from his ribs as he picked up his pace across her moonlit yard. He was useless when he was away from her, unable to pull his head from the clouds or the memories of their nights together. Her soft warm shape, her gentle hands running over his skin, those beautiful eyes staring up at him, mirrors to his soul. It’d been weeks since he met her and it still felt as if the earth was shifting under him. His world forever changed by one tiny, fierce and beautiful woman that refused to let him walk away from her.

 

After their first night together, Robb had finally shoved him out of the barn the following afternoon, humored, but exasperated, telling him to go straighten himself out. He had, shamefully. Striding further up the mountain and into the woods, taking himself in hand and falling into all the thoughts of her that swam behind his eyes. It had only taken the edge off. Within a couple hours, he was right back where he’d started. Lost to her, heart and soul.

 

It’d been the same since. No matter how many times he’d been blessed to have her, it was never enough. The ache within him bursting to life the moment he walked away, tormenting him until she was back in his arms again.

 

The screen door screeched like a scalded cat as he opened it and stepped inside her porch, slowly letting it close behind him. She walked towards him on silent feet, or maybe he just couldn't hear her over his heavy breathing. He didn't waste another second, closing the space between them in two strides and scooping her up in his arms.

 

She squealed and wrapped herself around him as their mouths scattered kisses over smiling faces.

 

“Damn, I missed you,” he breathed against her neck, drawing in her sweet scent and holding her tighter. She always smelled like honeysuckle and sunshine.

 

Her quiet giggle filled his ear. “It's only been a few days.”

 

He pulled back, frowning. “You didn't miss me?” he asked all pitiful, jumping on the chance to tease her for a change.

 

Dany stared, eyes wide and worried in the dim lights, the back of her fingers running across his cheek. “Of course I did. You know I never want you to lea–” He could only hold back his grin for so long and she’d spotted it. He got a firm smack on his shoulder for it too. “Jon Snow! Did you just tease me?”

 

Jon just laughed and sat her down on her freezer, standing between her spread thighs and running his hands over the silky confection she was wearing while kissing across her bare shoulder and up her neck. She felt too good not to.

 

She sighed and shivered in his arms, her head falling back. “Mmmmm, Jon, you spoil me. I'm no good for anything anymore,” she murmured, her hands reaching up, fingers delving into his hair.

 

His cap fell off, landing with a soft pop onto the freezer beside her.

 

Huffing, his lips found hers again. “I know that feelin’. You’ve ruined me, woman. I ain't worth shit when I'm away from you,” he whispered, taking slow, soft tastes of her mouth. As he ran his hands around to her breasts, the hardened peaks tickled his palms. He dragged his thumbs over them and back again, swallowing her moan, then her gasp as he pinched them.

 

Gently grasping the nape of her neck he leaned her back, pushing up her slip with the other hand and exposing a breast to his hungry mouth. She whimpered and mewled, as he suckled and pulled, her legs wrapping around his waist, desperately trying to get her hips to his. He stood back just enough to keep her wanting.

 

“Jon, please. Take me inside,” she whined, tugging and pulling at his shirt.

 

He lifted her up and stepped away once he was sure she wouldn't fall. A golden glow washed over her from the light filtering through the door. While she looked beautiful, already wrecked and dazed, it wouldn't do. “Stay there,” he said, and walked over and shut the door, leaving them in near darkness.

 

Thankfully his eyes adjusted quickly and he found his way back to her. “What are you doing?” she asked, confused, and a bit petulant.

Smiling, he picked up his cap and held it up to her. “Hold this, you're gonna need it. Don't want the neighbors hearin’ you.”

 

“What?”

 

He shushed her, kissing her softly. First her mouth, then down her neck and back to her breasts. She put her hands behind her, giving him better access. Instead of taking advantage of it he ran his hands up her smooth thighs and around to grip her backside, picking her up enough to pull her to the very edge of the freezer, then dropped to a knee.

 

“Jon,” she gasped, “What are y...”

 

She lost her words as he picked up one of her legs and placed it over his shoulder, then braced her foot on the other. “I been dyin’ for a taste a' you. I ain't waitin’ another minute,” he told her, lifting her slip, groaning when his fingers found her bare beneath, only her pale curls and slick heat between them, the scent of her sending him reeling.

 

It only took one swipe of his tongue through her folds for Dany to cram his cap into her mouth, her whimpers still barely muffled as he began to feast on her. He’d been dreaming of this for days, to taste her again, to feel her thighs quiver against him, to hear her keen and cry at each drag of his tongue, and every time he pulled her bundle of nerves into his mouth and tortured it.

 

It was all he had imagined and more. Her sweet musk filled his senses, her folds swollen, slippery, and hot against his lips and tongue. She was already shaking above him, her hand fisted in his hair, while her hips rose to meet him, draw him closer. He wanted it to last, he could spend hours like this, but he could tell she wouldn't make it long and damn his cock ached something fierce. If he didn't want to be wrapped up tight and buried deep within her so bad he’d finish himself off right along with her.

 

But he did, so he pulled away long enough to run his fingers over and through the seam of her, gathering her juices, then slipped two inside. He wasn't sure which of them moaned the loudest. Feeling her velvet walls pulse and pull him in, nearly undid him. Not willing to keep torturing either of them he sealed his lips around her nub, flicking it mercilessly with his tongue as he worked her with his fingers.

 

He had to grip her thigh to keep her from coming off the freezer, and even then he had to rise to his feet, following as her body bowed and trembled with the beginnings of her release. Thank God she had his cap, or every neighbor in ten miles would’ve heard her scream. He eased her down as the quivering faded, stroking and licking at her gently, but she wasn't having it.

 

She sat up, pushing him away, only to grab at his shirt and pull him up to her face. She kissed him fiercely, sucking and biting at his lips all while tugging at his britches. “Get em off. Now, Jon. Take them off,” she demanded, panting and heaving.

 

He didn't have to be told twice, throwing off his suspenders and jerking down his britches, as she threw off her slip. “You got it in?” he panted against her mouth, stepping up and wrapping an arm around her waist, the other holding her back, his fingers sliding into her silky hair.

 

The head of his cock slipped through her, bumping into her clit, they both jerked and gasped as if shot through with electricity.

 

“Dany,” he growled, mouthing at her neck, asking her once more.

 

“Yes,” she panted, pulling him tight against her with her legs.

 

With one quick tilt of his hips, he slid home, hard and fast. It wasn't sweet, or gentle, nothing like their first time. She bit his shoulder, trying to muffle her cry, all the while clinging to him tighter, her hips grinding against his. He didn't slow, he couldn't, taking her with vicious thrusts as he’d ached to do since he’d left her lying sated and beautiful on her bed just a few nights ago.

 

They became nothing but writhing bodies and grasping hands, both lost to the tumult that had taken them. She fell first, convulsing in his arms, her cunt doing the same around his cock, her whimpers teasing his ears. All of it was too much and he was thrown into the abyss to fall with her, lights bursting behind his eyelids, his body rocked by wave after wave of pleasure. He buried his face in her neck, his hips still thrusting as he emptied inside her. His legs went weak, barely holding him up, and her soft purrs in his ear traveled down his spine in delightful shivers. He leaned against her and her hands slid over his back in soothing strokes.

Jon finally lifted his head, barely able to make her out in the darkness, but found her lips with his and kissed her. “You alright?” he whispered, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I wasn't too rough, was I?”

 

He felt her smile against his cheek before she kissed it and hugged him to her. “I’m more than alright, and no, you weren't too rough, you were perfect,” she sighed happily.

 

That new sort of pleasure took him then, as he held her in his arms, still a part of her. He wasn't sure when he'd fully accept it, but it filled his heart to bursting regardless. Knowing he could please her, be what she wanted, maybe even be deserving of her… _No, he wouldn't go that far_ . _He’d never deserve her._ But he did allow himself to feel some satisfaction, an ounce of pride at being able to make her happy and contented.

 

He pulled away enough to take her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers. Drawing in a deep breath he pressed a kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

 

She kissed him back, slow and sweet, her fingers running over his beard. “I love you too, Jon Snow.”

 

He didn't let himself smile the way he really wanted hearing those words from her again, knowing she meant them, instead he bit into his lip, letting himself slip free of her warmth and stepped back, pulling his britches up. His eyes had adjusted enough to the faint moonlight he caught sight of her pout, chuckling at the picture she made, all rumpled, sullen, and spent.

 

“No need to pout, lass,” he murmured, slipping one arm under her legs and the other around her back and picking her up. She latched onto him, just as he suspected she would, laying her head onto his shoulder. “You know I won't be leavin’ anytime soon. We’ll just go rest a bit, how ‘bout that?” he asked taking her into the house and into her bedroom.

 

She made a humming noise against his neck, then sighed, clutching him tighter as he went to lay her down.

 

Smiling to himself he turned and sat on the bed, keeping her in his lap. He didn't much feel like letting her go anyway. So he just held her for a time, soaking her in. The woman he loved. Running his fingers through her silky hair and over the smooth flesh of her hip while her slow deepening breaths tickled his skin.

 

For weeks now he’d puzzled over what he’d done to bring her into his life. Marveled at how quickly that life had changed since she’d shown up on his porch, as pretty as the first blooms of spring. She was like no other woman he’d ever known. Life had been breathed back into him, a little more every time he saw her smile, heard her laugh, or felt her touch. Felt like maybe all the hells he’d walked through had been worth it. And he knew, if it meant he got to keep her, he’d suffer them all again.

 

She’d fallen asleep, going warm and limp in his arms. He gathered her up slow and easy and stood, then laid her down in the bed like the precious thing she was. Shucking off his boots he slipped out of his suspenders, then pulled his shirt over his head. She shifted when he looked up, turning onto her back, a spill of pale limbs and soft curves on rose dotted sheets. Her heavy lids opened, revealing dark blue eyes weighted with sleep. A sweet smile pulled at her lips and she reached a hand out for him.

 

He wondered if she’d ever quit stealing the air from his lungs. She was liable to kill him one day. But as he dropped his britches and shorts to the floor and laid down, she curled herself to his side, fitting perfectly into that spot that seemed made just for her, wrapping him in her warmth, he decided if it happened it’d be the perfect way to go.

 

“I wish we could do this every night,” she said as she stroked nonsense patterns over his chest.

 

“I’m sorry. If I put any more a' my work off on the rest of em, I might get booted from the family,” he sighed, rolling her to her back and stroking his fingers through her hair. As always he tried to imagine the dark tresses as white blonde, wondering if he’d ever see it.

 

Dany traced a finger down the line of his abdomen making his cock twitch. It was an automatic response anytime he felt her touch. A groan slipped from his throat as her soft little hand wrapped around the base and gently tugged. He buried his face against her breasts, breathing in her scent, letting her pull him under her spell. He might have just had her, but he’d gladly have her again.

 

She pushed him back over and rested her head on his belly, her hand moving steadily over his hardening length. She lifted her head and looked at him, and the predatory smile on her face caused him to swell further in her hand. With a wink, she moved lower over him. The fall of her hair kept him from seeing what she was doing, but at the first touch of her tongue, he grasped her shoulder. “Dany, you don’t...”

 

“Hush Jon, unless you’re going to moan my name,” she asserted and tucked her hair back.  

 

They’d done many things over the last couple of weeks, but he hadn't dared ask for more, so he watched in awe as her pink tongue flicked out against the head of his cock, licking up the bead of cum from the tip.

 

He did moan for her. Loudly, as he tucked his arm beneath his head, trying to find the best position to watch her. Her full lips pressed soft kisses over the length of him from tip to base and back. She gazed up at him, those gorgeous ocean eyes locking onto his as she took the tip into her mouth and swirled around the flared head with her tongue before sinking down over him.

 

“Lord, Dany. You're gonna kill me,” he choked, his muscles trembling as he forced them to hold still.

 

She released him with a pop and a wicked grin as her hand stroked him, using the other to scratch her nails along his inner thigh. He swallowed down another groan when she pulled him into her mouth again, but his eyes closed, his vision swimming, the heat and wetness driving him wild along with her clever tongue swirling around the tip with each pull she made before she’d lower over him again.

 

When he did open his eyes, he clenched the sheets in his fists, trying to control his urge to grasp her hair as his hips rose up to meet her. His cock bumped the back of her throat and she moaned. He felt it strumming through his entire body from his toes to the tips of his hair. His every nerve ending was on fire, his mouth dry, eyes watching her intently. Then he realized she was touching herself as she sucked and teased him and he nearly fell over the edge.

 

“Lass, ya gotta...stop or I’m gonna—“

 

She hummed around him once more, pulling off his cock and sitting back, her hand still stroking over him slowly. She shifted on the bed, turning to face his feet and straddled him. His breath caught watching her reach between them and run him through her slick, swollen folds, then she sat back.

 

Their moans filled the room as she sheathed herself around him. She rolled her hips in a circle and his hands gripped her tight, holding her still until he got his bearings. He didn’t want to embarrass himself again, but damn she wasn't making it easy on him. He already felt like he couldn’t breathe, then she was moving again, leaning forward and pressing her hands to his shins, giving him a view he’d never dreamed of seeing. Watching his cock slide inside her tight cunt, he had to close his eyes again, the sight too much.

 

“Fuck, lass,” he groaned, his fingers digging into her hips hard then sliding down to grip her ass as she continued to ride him.

 

Her hand cupped his sac, rolling and tugging, slow and gentle. He pressed his head further into the pillow and bent his knees, thrusting into her fast and hard.

 

“Yes! Yes! Jon!” She shot upright, catching herself on one hand, her back arching, her cunt clenching and quivering around him as he drove into her at a new angle.

 

He slid a hand around her hip and found her fingers working her clit and pushed them away. He’d be the reason she fell apart. Only him. He stroked over the hardened nub, slippery with their mess and she shook above him, her cunt spasming around his still thrusting cock. The familiar build up at the base of his spine finally let go and he pulled her hips tight against his, grinding up into her as his release crashed through him. With a few more thrusts and groans he collapsed back on the bed, spent and wasted.

 

Dany looked over her shoulder at him with a dazed smile, her eyes twinkling in the low light of the room, hair clinging to her sweat-sheened skin. She was the most gorgeous sight he'd ever had the privilege to see. They were both still for a few moments, catching their breath, before she carefully climbed off and went into the bathroom, giving Jon a moment to collect himself.

 

She came out of the bathroom, still gloriously naked, with a wet cloth for him and a freshly rolled cigarette already lit and joined him in the bed. He cleaned himself up then smiled when she held the cigarette out to him. He took it, inhaling as she laid her head on his shoulder, her fingers stroking over his chest. “You’re here all night?”

 

Nodding, he ran his hand over the smooth curve of her ass. “Same as usual. I’ll need to leave lil’ before sunrise to ride back with Arya and Gendry.”

 

He held the cigarette out for her to take back. She did, sitting up and tapping the ashes into the tray beside the bed before turning to face him, taking a drag then letting the smoke curl from her luscious mouth. She looked like a well-fucked goddess. And he’d be the one to worship at her temple for all eternity if she let him.

 

*~*

 

Robb, Gendry, and Bronn were helping him run the next batch in the barn when the roar of several engines and crunching gravel brought them all to alert. Robb went to the door and glanced out. The sudden look of panic that came over his brother's face had Jon’s heart sinking like a boulder to his gut.

 

“It’s Thorne!” Robb hissed, his wild eyes darting from one to the next as he looked back at them.

 

“Don’t panic,” Bronn snarled, pointing an accusing finger towards Robb. “We’ve known this was coming. We’re ready. Jon get out there with him. Keep em away from here as long as you can. Gendry and me will dismantle the still. Walk real slow and calm. Don’t take your weapons,” he ordered.

 

Gendry was already putting out the fire as Jon placed his gun on one of the barrels. Robb did the same and Jon's stomach rolled seeing his handshake as he did so. They walked out of the barn, doing their best to seem unruffled. He hoped that with Olenna being there things wouldn’t be as bad as he knew they could be.

 

Arya came out of her house and walked up with them. “They got it handled?” she whispered.

 

“Hope so. Be quiet, don’t provoke, and don’t draw a weapon,” Jon warned.

 

“I only got my knife on me. Gun’s in the house.”

 

Robb grunted. “Good. Let me do the talkin’.”

 

As they grew closer, Jon realized there were two cars with civilians in them. He recognized Joffrey and Meryn right away, but as Alliser Thorne stepped from his car, so did the biggest man Jon had ever seen: the Mountain, Gregor Clegane. His heart hadn't beat so hard since he’d faced the Germans.

 

The front door squealed open and Margaery and her Grandmother walked onto the porch.  Rickon was a mottled shadow watching through the screen.

 

“Sheriff,” Robb said, tipping his hat at the man, though Alliser’s beady eyes were locked on Jon. “How can we help you?”

 

Alliser smirked, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and waving it around no better than a bully teasing a child on the playground. “I have a warrant, signed by a county judge,” he drawled. “We're here to search your property for illegally making moonshine.”

 

Robb reached his hand out for it and Thorne passed it to him with a smile. Jon stepped closer and read over it with Robb. Unfortunately, it was exactly what Thorne had said it was. “You need all these men to search two houses and a barn?” his brother asked, keeping his tone even and calm.

 

“I was told you’re all armed,” Thorne answered gruffly.

 

The doors of the other cars opened then and eight more men stepped out. They were outnumbered. Jon was surprised not to see Ramsay or Locke, he’d felt sure they’d jump at the chance to be a part of this.

 

“Honestly, Thorne, allowing Tywin Lannister to use you to do his dirty work,” Olenna commented. “There isn’t an ounce of pride in you, is there?” It amazed Jon how small she could make you feel with words alone.

 

Thorne sneered at her but didn't respond, turning back to Robb. “We’re gonna search all of you to make sure you're not hiding any weapons. And keep your wolves away or we’ll shoot them,” he warned.

 

Jon looked back and saw Ghost and the rest of the pack behind them. He slung his head towards the woods, praying the wolf would listen. After a short stare off, Ghost eventually did as ordered, his siblings following, but not without whining in objection.

 

Thorne's lackeys stepped up to them all and began their search. Jon and Robb were patted down quickly, but the men took their time with the women, murmuring to them as they groped. His sister and Marg stood stoic, but their eyes blazed with hatred. Even Olenna looked ready to clock the man that dared touch her. Jon watched with gritted teeth as Meryn Trant ran his hands along Arya’s body, sneering all the while. He stopped at her outer thigh and lifted her skirt, removing her sling blade, then tossed it to the dirt in front of them.

 

“All of you off the porch and over here,” Thorne ordered once they were deemed safe. “Isn’t there another one? A cripple.”

 

“He’s in his room,” Margaery answered, her voice shaking. Jon knew it was anger and not fear that had taken her. “He’s just a boy, he doesn't have a weapon. And the little one is only six. They're not a threat to anyone.”

 

Alliser huffed and waved the Mountain towards the house. “Go get the cripple and bring him out here.”

 

The Mountain marched past them and into the house, but came right back out, Rickon fighting his clutch on him like a feral wolf before he tossed the boy down the steps to land with a cry in the dirt. They all took a step forward as their youngest went rigid and silent for an agonizing moment, then split the air with his terrified scream. Margaery scrambled forward to grab him, but Joffrey was in her face a breath later, the barrel of his pistol aimed between her eyes. She froze, chest heaving, her eyes slit with hate. Her ex-husband smiled back at her, enjoying every moment of their torment with wicked glee.

 

Fury raced through Jon like a boiling storm, his fists clenched and jaw cracking at seeing Rickon, so small, so afraid as he laid on the ground, tears streaming down his dirty face as he shook and shuddered. Taking several deep breaths through his nose Jon willed himself to calm, he couldn't unleash his rage now. They’d all be done for. He’d barely managed to get a gasp on himself when the screen door opened again.

 

The Mountain rolled Bran to the edge of the porch and without warning, lifted the back of the chair and sent their brother spilling to the ground, the chair thrown after him. It landed no more than a foot from his brother’s head with a splintering crack. “I found this on him,” the Mountain grunted as he tossed Bran’s whittling knife into the yard.

 

“Search the houses and the barn,” Thorne ordered his men.

 

The Mountain went back inside and the men divided up. Alliser ambled back to his car and leaned against the fender, as if he were having a friendly visit. Joffrey stayed as well, his gun still aimed at a defiant Margaery while he giggled like a man deranged.

 

Arya looked ready to murder everyone and Jon felt the same. He’d kill em all if he had to. But now wasn't the time. His family needed to be safe first. Bran had managed to get himself into a sitting position and was close enough to Rickon he grabbed his shirt and pulled him against his side.

 

Jon’s chest ached something fierce, while his stomach rolled with shame. Those boys were theirs to protect and they’d failed them. He’d never forgive himself for that.

 

The next half hour felt like an age as he stood there, watching his little brothers cling to one another as Thorne's goons ransacked their home filling the air with shattering glass and the cracks of splitting wood. His racing heart thudded like a war drum behind his ribs, his breathing only coming in labored heaves, fists clenched so tight his knuckles screamed in protest.

 

Finally, one of the men came from the barn and held out a crate. “All we found was this. No still.”

 

Alliser’s eyes narrowed on the group and pointed to Arya. “Where’s your husband?”

 

“Huntin’,” she answered. “Left ‘bout an hour ago.”

 

“He didn’t take his truck?”

 

She folded her arms over her chest. “There’s a lotta land round here, Sheriff. He don’t need his truck.”

 

The men inside the house came out onto the porch and Jon’s blood ran cold. They had all of Bran’s medicine grasped in their hands. His eyes darted to Bran on instinct. The boy looked every bit as afraid as he felt.

 

“No still or shine but did find these suspicious bottles,” one of them said, his grin knowing.

 

“Sheriff, that’s just my brother’s medicine,” Jon started, but Alliser threw his hand up, silencing him.

 

Thorne waved the men over and took one of the bottles. He opened it and sniffed, eyeing Robb, then Jon. “Smells like moonshine to me,” he said before he turned it up and poured it out.

 

Jon’s entire body shook as he watched the medicine splatter to the ground. The second bottle followed the first and at Bran’s sob, Jon charged forward intending to rip Thorne’s arm from his body before he spilled another drop. He was quickly caught, a man grasping each of his arms. Struggling, he watched helplessly as a third came straight for his face with the butt end of a shotgun. Blinding pain exploded through his left eye, and he was dropped to the ground, falling to his knees as Rickon screamed his name, over and over.

 

Somehow he had the wherewithal to stay down but still felt the barrels of a shotgun shoved into the back of his head. He held up both of his hands as the world spun around him. He could hear a struggle behind him and Robb whispering a warning. It had to be Arya he was trying to control. Then a pair of shiny boots filled his swirling vision partially blocked by the wet blackness sliding over his left eye and the last of Bran's medicine was poured between his knees to soak into the earth.

 

“The Bolton's send their regards,” Thorne rasped into his ear.

 

“Enough Alliser,” Olenna called out. “Your men said it. There is no still and the house is clean. Anything else you do will be egregious and illegal,” she censured him.

 

Thorne stepped away and Jon followed him with his one good eye. He relished in the man’s sour expression. “You boys are lucky,” he quipped. “We won't be hauling you off to jail like you deserve, but we _will_ be seeing you again. That I can promise,” he warned, then ordered everyone back in the cars.

 

Joffrey was the last to move, still holding his gun in Margaery’s face. “Divorce doesn’t matter, you’re still mine. And I’ll make you suffer the rest of your days for humiliating me,” he hissed at her.

 

Margaery said nothing as he turned and went to the car. They drove away in a spray of gravel and roaring engines and Rickon nearly knocked him to his back as he latched onto him and sobbed. Robb let Arya go and she came straight to him as Robb gathered up Margaery before they both rushed to Bran. His sister sat beside him, deathly silent, her head resting on his back until Gendry and Bronn came out of the woods, all the wolves on their heels. She scrambled up and flew into her husband’s arms. Gendry held her close and kissed her gently on the forehead. By the time she let him go, Bronn and Robb were checking Bran’s chair. A furious roar echoed over the mountain as Robb stood and kicked at the ground.

 

With a heavy heart, Jon realized the axle on the chair had been broken. He tried to stand, but between his throbbing head and Rickon clinging to him like a burr he couldn't. Margaery tried to gently coax him away, but even she couldn’t get him to let go. As the others helped get Bran into the house, Gendry took the chair to the barn, swearing he could fix it.

 

Jon just eased himself down onto the dirt, holding his trembling brother. He was whimpering like he’d never heard before. He clung onto him just as tight, rubbing his hand over his wild curls and boney back. “I’m alright, little man. We all are. They're gone now. I promise they won't hurt us again,” Jon swore to him, and himself.

 

“They was gonna kill you!” Rickon wailed in his ear, sending a piercing spike of pain through Jon’s already aching head.

 

“But they didn't. I’m right here, I’m alright,” he assured him.

 

Rickon's little head shook violently. “No, you ain't! You’re bleedin’ all over!”

 

Robb came from inside the house then, his expression dark as the mountain on a winter’s night, his blue eyes almost hidden under a heavy brow as he scowled at him.

 

“Alright Rickon, that’s enough cryin'. Get on in the house now and wash up for supper,” he ordered. The boy didn’t budge. “Rickon. You heard me.”

 

He shot Robb a menacing glare but bit back a retort, not wanting to upset his little brother any more than he already was. He rubbed his back instead. “Hey, little man,” he whispered, “Why don’t you go inside and see about Margaery so I can talk to Robb?”

 

Rickon whimpered, his little arms tightening around his neck, nearly cutting off his air. His worry overrode his anger and he shared a look of concern with Robb. Their older brother crouched beside them, handing him a handkerchief, and ran a hand over Rickon’s head, obviously deciding a softer approach was needed. “Come on, bud. You always do what you’re told. I need you to be brave like you always are.”

 

Rickon began sobbing and Jon looked at Robb helplessly, as he wiped the blood out of his eye. More quickly replaced it. Robb heaved a sigh and stood, holding a hand out to him to help him up. The world spun again, but Robb held him steady. They walked into the house and found Margaery dressing a bleeding wound on Bran’s knee and his scraped hands.

 

Olenna was pacing furiously, while Bronn leaned against the counter and heaved a sigh. “You can’t fucking help yourself, can you?”

 

Jon raised a threatening finger. “Not now,” he warned and walked to Bran and put a hand on his head. “I’ll go see Sam in the mornin’. We’ll find a way to get ya some more medicine. I promise.”

 

Bran nodded. “I know,” he said and looked up at him, wincing. “You alright?”

 

“Don’t worry 'bout me. I gotta hard head,” he told him, winking at him with his good eye. The ache in his chest eased a bit when Bran gave a weak grin.

 

He turned and looked around, still rubbing Rickon's back. Thankfully his sobs had slowed to sniffles for the time being, but his grip hadn't lessened an inch. Their living room had been destroyed. All their chairs were broken, picture frames in pieces, the sofa knifed, all the stuffing torn from it. Two of the chairs in the kitchen were missing legs. Jon took a seat in the only one that wasn’t broken, exhaustion and a sudden wave of nausea weakening his knees.

 

Olenna turned on them. “Is this how you plan to keep my granddaughter and great-grandchild safe?”

 

Everyone, including Rickon, looked at Margaery. She cleared her throat as she stood, her face blooming red, and went back to the first aid kit.

 

“Are you pregnant?” Bronn asked.

 

She nodded. “It’s Robb’s. It can’t be Joffrey’s,” she said but didn’t clarify how she knew.

 

“I asked how you planned to keep her safe?” Olenna repeated.

 

“I don’t know!” Robb shouted, banging his fist on the counter. Rickon jumped in Jon’s arms, tucking his face into his neck. “I don’t have an answer to that question! They didn’t even care that you were here! I’m open to suggestions.”

 

“Margaery comes home with me.”

 

Rickon whimpered again, and Jon held him tighter, rocking him as best he could in the old straight back chair. He knew how both boys felt about Margaery, but he might be willing to let Olenna have her way if it meant that nothing else happened to Bran and Rickon.

 

“You expect me to leave them at a time like this?” Margaery’s exasperated voice was loud through the room. “They’re my family, just like you,” she said as she crossed to Jon and dabbed at his bleeding face with a wet towel then held pressure against the cut over his eye. He winced at the sting.

 

“This will get worse before it gets better,” Olenna warned.

 

“For better or worse. That’s how long I’m here,” Margaery said, her tone brooking no argument.

 

“Let me send more men, at least.”

 

“We can’t house them,” Robb answered.

 

Olenna huffed. “You can’t expect me to leave her here without help after what just happened!”

 

“You can and you will,” Bronn said with a sigh. “I have an idea.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his blue eyes looking over them all before landing on Olenna. “Go into town, tell them about Thorne, and specifically about Joffrey threatening Margaery and Clegane throwing Bran from his chair. Play on their sympathies. The medicine was dumped out, you were accosted, Margaery and Arya both groped, the boys hurt and terrified. Tears, Olenna. Produce tears. I don’t know much about the law, but this ain’t right.”

 

“And what does that get us?” Jon asked, not bothering to look up, still resting against Margaery's hand.

 

“Let’s see how far the Lannisters get when the town hears about them picking on a cripple boy and groping women. Especially one of your age,” he said with a raise of his brows towards Olenna.

 

“And who should I tell this to? Walk into the general store?”

 

“No. You go to Davos. His deputy can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. By midnight, everyone in town will have heard what he did.”

 

“The Lannisters rule on fear,” she said, “Don’t you think this adds to that?”

 

He shook his head. “Not when you tell them how Stark and Snow are reputable men who stood up for their family, and Jon got a bloody face for it. War heroes and all. Your granddaughter couldn’t be luckier to have escaped the clutches of Joffrey.” Bronn frowned. “You know how to play the game. Do it.”

 

Olenna nodded and turned Margaery to her. “You can still come with me.”

 

She shook her head. “I’m staying,” she said as she looked at Rickon who was still clinging to Jon.

 

Gendry and Arya came into the house, pushing Bran’s chair. “I told you I could fix it,” Gendry said, beaming.

 

He helped Robb get Bran into it and the boy smiled at him. “Thank you.”

 

“Look at that, little man,” Jon tried to coax Rickon out of hiding. “Gendry fixed Bran’s chair, good as new.” He didn’t lift his head or loosen his hold, so Jon let him be, still rubbing over his back. “Gendry, I need a favor.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Could you and Arya go tell Dany what happened and my current predicament? I was supposed to go see her tonight.”

 

“Course we can.” Gendry nodded and opened the door for Arya. She sent a worried glance over her shoulder at him. He gave her a weak smile and she reluctantly left. Bronn escorted Olenna out as well.

 

Bran rolled up to the table and frowned as he looked at his little brother. “Rickon, would you get my whittlin’ knife from outside for me? I don't want it to rust.”

 

“No! I ain't leavin’ Jon!” he screamed.

 

*~*

 

He finally got Rickon to relinquish his hold by telling him he had to go to the bathroom. But the second he came out, Rickon latched onto his arm and wouldn't let go. Whenever someone tried to get him to, his bottom lip would tremble and tears would well in his bright blue eyes.

 

All of their mattresses had been slit, but Robb and Bronn had turned them over, Rickon's first. He and the boy were laid up in it, the lamp on so he could do shadow puppets on the wall to entertain him. His brother cracked a tiny smile at the bird that dove down, seeming to tickle him.

 

Gendry’s truck rumbled up into the yard. A moment later the familiar creak of the front door sounded, then the clacking of heeled feet filled the house. His heart leaped when Dany suddenly appeared in the doorway of Rickon’s room, her look of concern quickly turning to one of rage as she spied his face. He’d caught a glance of himself in the bathroom mirror an hour ago. It wasn't pretty. Already repulsive shades of red and purple, his eye was nearly swollen shut, the cuts above and below barely scabbed over. He could only imagine what Dany thought.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked, making her way warily to his side.

 

He nodded and glanced at Rickon, then back at her, silently begging with his eyes for her not to make a fuss over him. “We’re alright.”

 

He scooted to the foot of the bed, catching her hand and giving it a brief squeeze before letting go to allow her to sit beside Rickon on the tiny bed. The little boy leaned forward and fell into her outstretched arms. She brushed down his curls as he released her and sat back. “You should be asleep. You’ve got school tomorrow,” she whispered.

 

He shook his head adamantly. “I ain’t goin’. I ain’t leavin' Jon.”

 

She took his little hand in hers and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Jon has a lot of stuff to do around here and I _need_ you in class tomorrow. Remember about the terrarium? Who’s going to find me the best lizard to be found if you’re not there?”

 

“What if those men come back?” Rickon said, his lip trembling.

 

Jon was gonna make Alliser Thorne rue the day he crossed them. He put a hand over Rickon's bare foot. “Little man, you need to be in school. I’ll take you, though. And pick you up. Give you peace of mind.”

 

That seemed to console him a bit. He looked up at Dany with watery blue eyes. “Margaery sings to me,” he said as he sank down in his bed, still holding her hand.

 

“I can sing to you,” she said softly. “A lullaby that one of my nursemaids used to sing to me. Would you like that?”

 

Rickon nodded and she moved on the bed to sit beside him and let his little head rest against her chest as she held his hand.

 

 _Go to sleep little babe_  
_Go to sleep little babe_

Jon watched her, mesmerized as she sang, a dainty foot bouncing to keep time and her free hand stroking through Rickon’s curls. With her sweet voice and the way she was looking down at his little brother with such affection, Jon's breath actually caught, his throat trying to swell closed. She was the best woman he’d ever known, and he loved her more than he knew a heart could love.

 _  
_ _Your momma's gone away_

_and your daddy's gonna stay_

_Didn't leave nobody but the baby_  
_  
_ Go to sleep little babe

 _Go to sleep little babe_  
  
_Everybody's gone in the cotton and the corn_  
_Didn't leave nobody but the baby_  
_  
_ You're a sweet little babe

 _You're a sweet little babe_  
  
_Honey in the rock and the sugar don't stop_ _  
_ Gonna bring a bottle to the baby

  
_  
_ Rickon’s eyes drifted shut, then popped right back open. But Jon knew he wouldn’t be able to fight it for long. The song and her tone were making him sleepy, a six-year-old didn’t stand a chance.

 

 _Don't you weep pretty babe_  
_Don't you weep pretty babe_  
  
_She's long gone with her red shoes on_  
_Gonna need another loving babe_  
  
_Go to sleep little babe_  
_Go to sleep little babe_  
  
_You and me and the devil makes three_  
_Don't need no other lovin' babe_  
  
_Go to sleep little babe_  
_Go to sleep little babe_  
  
_Come lay bones on the alabaster stones_ _  
_ And be my everlovin baby

  
  
Rickon was snoring softly by the time she finished. Jon stood and helped her adjust him in the bed before leading her out of the room after she turned the light off. He took her to the front porch and sank onto the top step. She sat beside him, turning his face to hers, delicate fingers examining the cuts over and under his eye.

 

“How bad does it hurt?” she fretted.

 

“I’ve had worse, you know that.” Leaning in he kissed her sweet lips, the weight hanging around his neck easing for those fleeting seconds. He let his forehead rest against hers. “I’m glad you did, but you didn’t have to come,” he murmured.

 

She sat back, scowling at him. “Someone attacks the man I love and I’m supposed to sit at home and wait for information?”

 

He shook his head, a half smile pulling at his mouth. “No, I don’t reckon that sounds like you.”

 

“Is there anything I can do?”

 

He shook his head. “Keep Rickon from worryin’ tomorrow, if you can.” He turned to look at her, taking solace in her beautiful face. “You sure got a pretty voice,” he said softly.

 

She narrowed her eyes teasingly. “Don’t look at me like that, Jon Snow. I will not be held responsible for what I do.” He huffed and her hand slid over his shoulder then down to rub his back as she sighed. “Arya said they broke Bran’s chair.”

 

Jon nodded. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been so angry in my life. That fucker threw my brothers on the ground like they was nothin’ but rag dolls, Dany. Then they poured all a’ his medicine out in the dirt. Claimin’ it was shine.” He ran a hand through his hair, gripping it in frustration. “I lost my temper. Tried to stop em...Got the butt of a shotgun to my face for it.”

 

She pulled his hand free and laced her fingers with his. “I don’t know that I blame you. If I had seen that, I’m not sure I could’ve controlled myself either.”

 

He frowned. “Come on, I’ll take you home. It's late and you gotta teach tomorrow.”

 

She shook her head, eyebrows twisted. “I’m not going anywhere. My bag is in your room.”

 

“Dany...”

 

“I’m not leaving, Jon. I’m here. You’re not going to get rid of me,” she said, stubborn as a stone.

 

“It’s dangerous for you to be seen with us,” he argued.

 

“I’ve already been _seen_ with you. I’m not leaving.” Her fingers brushed down his cheek. “I’m yours, remember? You’re mine.”

 

He rubbed his nose against hers and pressed a kiss to her cheek. _What had he done to deserve her?_ “How do we explain that to Rickon in the mornin’?”

 

He felt her smile. “I stayed to make sure he was alright and you were nice enough to share your bed with me?”

 

He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think that’ll work.”

 

“Won’t know unless we try,” she said, kissing his lips before leaning her head against his shoulder. “I love you.”

 

He wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled into her hair. “I love you, too.”

 

*~*

 

They slipped into his room unnoticed by the rest of his family. Robb and Marg were with Bran, he didn't know or care where Bronn was. Arya and Gendry had taken the night off. It was safer for the time being.

 

He’d shared a silent conversation with his friend earlier in the evening while his sister's back was turned, both wary of what she might do. If his fuse was short, hers was half that, and she’d been too quiet in light of what had happened today. Gendry had given him a firm nod, he’d keep a close eye on her, Jon knew. No doubt he’d stay awake all night watching her so she didn't sneak away with her sling blade to rid them of their enemies.

 

Funny thing was, he’d bet his last dollar that Gendry and Arya had probably had the same silent conversation about him. They couldn't have stopped Dany from coming tonight once she set her mind to it. Knowing her, she would've walked if she'd had to. But he was certain they hadn't fought her on it. Most likely they’d helped her pack, encouraging her every step of the way, knowing she'd be the best distraction for him.

 

“Not that I'm not pleased to see it, but why are you grinning?” she asked softly, breaking him from his musing.

 

Looking up as he threw his shirt over the footboard of the bed he watched her slide beneath his quilt. He was down to just his britches, she only in her flimsy slip. Seeing her in his bed did funny things to his insides. They’d shared hers many times now, but this felt different, made his soul ache in all the best ways it could. He wanted to lie down with her every night for the rest of his days, to have her beside him as he fell asleep and be the first thing he saw each morning when he woke.

 

He had to bite his tongue to keep the words behind his teeth. Now wasn't the time to be asking her such a question, not with the Lannister's and Bolton's breathing down their necks. But he would once things settled down and he knew he could keep her safe. If he was still around to ask.

 

“Did they help you pack?” he asked, shucking out of his britches and joining her under the quilt.

 

Her eyebrows twisted up over her pretty eyes. “Who?”

 

He pulled her against him, burying his nose in her sweet smelling neck, breathing her in as her soft hands ran up his back. She slung a thigh over his hip, settling closer. “Arya and Gendry. Did they help you pack when you decided to come check on me?”

 

She laughed then, a bright twinkle in her eyes when she pulled back to look at him. “Not exactly, but they both thought it was a _fine idea.”_

 

“The finest,” he agreed, taking her mouth with his and kissing her thoroughly. Something desperate began rising in his chest, filling him up as her lips and tongue slipped against his, her fingers grasping hair and skin as his roamed her curves. It wasn't lust, not _only_ lust anyway, but something more profound than that, as if his soul had released a long-buried part of itself to flood his every crook and crevice and it was reaching out to spill into her.

 

Dany must have felt it too, she clung to him just as tight, drank from him just as deep, as if she could absorb him through her will alone, to make them one.

 

They were left panting and shaken, staring into each other's watery eyes, both rendered mute for a long while. Finally, she reached up, tracing a gentle finger around his swollen eye and cheek. “Your enemies are mine and mine are yours,” she whispered, her voice low and far away.

 

The weight held in those words grabbed at Jon’s heart, shooting fear through it. He grasped her face, needing her to see him. “This fight is mine and Robb’s, we'll see it through. They won't lay another finger on you. I won't let them hurt you, I’ll die first,” he swore to her.

 

She shook her head, her smile sad. “They've already hurt me. They took everything from me once. I won't let it happen again.”

 

“Dany, what’re you talkin’ about?” he asked, dread crawling up his throat and threatening to choke him.

 

Her fingers trailed down his face and to his chest, drifting over his scars, her eyes following them. “That's why I'm here, Jon. Why I came to Winterfell,” she whispered. “Why I'm Dany Storm, the new teacher with dark hair, and not Daenerys Targaryen with her signature silver tresses. I’m here for Tywin Lannister,” she said, the name dripping with hate. “He ordered the hit on my parents, on me and my husband. And now he and his lackeys are after you and those you love.” Her eyes met his, filled with such a fire he nearly trembled in the wake of it. “He thinks I’m dead. What he doesn't know is going to kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Summary for those who skipped the violence: The Lannisters, along with Alliser Throne (County Sheriff) and the Mountain (his deputy) show up to do a raid on the Mountain. While Jon, Robb, and Arya head out to meet them while Gendry and Bronn pull apart the still and hide it in the woods. Alliser orders everyone brought outside, including Bran and Rickon. The Mountain goes in and pulls Rickon out of the house and tosses him into the dirt, then dumps bran into the dirt as well and throws his wheelchair. The women are all groped (even Olenna) under the pretense of looking for weapons. Joffrey holds a gun in Margaery's face the whole time, not allowing her to comfort Rickon. The men search the house but don't find moonshine, but dump out Bran's medicine as Alliser says it smells like shine. Jon tries to stop him and gets a shotgun barrel to the eye and the gun held to the back of his head as the rest of it is poured into the dirt between his knees. The men all leave. Rickon will not leave Jon's side._


	13. At Last I've Found My Heart's Own Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany unfurls everything for Jon to know it all. Dany meets the rest of the family. Dangerous events at the school lead to someone feeling overprotective. Jon and Dany take comfort in one another and rehash some of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING: THREATENED SEXUAL ASSAULT ON A FEMALE, ASSAULT, PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA TO CHILDREN/ADULTS**
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for all the love and support for the last chapter. We know it was difficult to read, as are parts of this one. As with the last chapter, a summary of the events.
> 
> Huge thanks to Meisie for the beta on this chapter. We know it was hard on you and we appreciate the hard work you put into making our story better! We love you.
> 
> The gorgeous mood board was made by the ever talented justwanderneverlost. Each one seems to set the mood for the chapter, and we can't wait for you guys to read this one. There are parts of this that were very hard to write, but we hope that it explains better who Dany is and how far she has come.

 

**TRIGGER WARNING: THREATENED SEXUAL ASSAULT ON A FEMALE, ASSAULT, PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA TO CHILDREN/ADULTS**

**DANY**

_I was walking along life's highway_  
_Lost and lonely as I could be_  
_Looking for my own true lover_  
_One I thought I would never see_

_Just when I thought I'd never know love_  
_Just when my dreams all fell apart_  
_I looked up from the deepening shadows_  
_And you were standing next to my heart_

_Bless your heart, you are my darlin'_  
_Bless your soul, you are the one_  
_Bless the fate that brought you to me_  
_At last I've found my heart's own love_

_Sometimes we wander like lonely pilgrims_  
_Like old soldiers who long for home_  
_Hoping when our journey's ended_  
_We'll find the sweetest peace we've known_

_Just when I thought I'd never know love_  
_Just when my dreams all fell apart_  
_I looked up from the deepening shadows_  
_And you were standing next to my heart_

_Bless your heart, you are my darlin'_  
_Bless your soul, you are the one_  
_Bless the fate that brought you to me_  
_At last I've found my heart's own love_

_My Heart's Own Love_  
_**Red Tail Ring**_

Dany waited for his reaction, pushing down the fear that her final confession might change how he felt about her. She was terrified she wouldn't survive it if she lost him. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and the thought of living without him caused her chest to ache as if he'd reached in and was pulling out her racing heart.

__

She closed her eyes, losing faith in scraps and bits the longer he stayed silent and staring. It hurt to meet those beautiful eyes, to see them swimming with doubts. But behind her lids the vision of her mother at the foot of the stairs came forth, the haunting memory tormenting her further.

__

_My beautiful mother_ , she thought, wearing the elaborate red kimono she so often wore while they dined together. Her silver hair loose from its usual knot, soaking up her blood. And her eyes. Dany remembered so vividly how her bright blue eyes had lost their luster as they stared at nothing. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes popping open as Jon sat up, the bed squeaking in protest.

__

He propped his arms on his raised knees, his back to her, his head of raven curls hanging low, his fingers worrying them. “I need you to explain,” he said, _asked, begged_ , his tone worn and weak.

__

She sat up, putting herself directly in front of him. He looked up, his dark eyes huge and liquid, full of concern and apprehension. She took a steadying breath. She owed him this, she would keep no more secrets.

__

“You know about the jazz clubs. They were so successful they made Father the most powerful man in the state. Not the governor, or senators, not the mayor, or police.” She shook her head. “Hell, they all went to him looking for his help with any and everything, including their election campaigns. He was stubborn, though. If he didn’t like you, it wouldn’t bode well for your political ambitions.”

__

She played with a loose thread at the end of her slip, trying to remain stoic as she told of the downfall to her family. “That was the problem, what started it all. Tywin was trying to install Janos Slynt as governor. But both had disrespected my father and his influence, insisting they could win without him. Tywin even assured others in high political circles that Aerys Targaryen would have no sway over the election as he had already installed men to oversee the voting.” She glanced up at Jon. “He was going to rig the election, but no one did anything in Boston without my father knowing about it. When he found out, he sent his own men. My husband, Drogo, was the leader of the largest gang in the city. The only reason we were married is so my father would have their muscle at his disposal, to keep others from destroying _his_ empire.”

__

Jon was scowling, no doubt disliking the things he was learning, but he needed to hear it all.

__

“I only found this out after the fact from my father’s closest allies who were helping thwart Tywin and Janos.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “So, Drogo and his gang spread throughout the city and even into the smaller towns, protecting the polling places from Tywin’s would be enforcers.”

__

“Your husband’s gang was that intimidatin’?” Jon’s voice interrupted her.

__

She gave a sad smile and nodded. “It’s why they were so good at their jobs.” She twirled the thread around her finger until the skin was tight and red then unraveled it, watching her finger go pale again. “Janos lost. Drogo had done his job and my father proved that he was not a man to be trifled with. In fact, it put the governor into his debt. Before Tywin left, he threatened my father would pay. But Aerys Targaryen was untouchable. At least, that’s what everyone thought,” she sighed.

__

“The night I found them murdered I also found a letter attached to my father’s chest. _A Lannister always pays his debts_. Something gripped me as soon as I saw it, I knew what needed to be done. I tossed it into the fire. I didn't want anyone else seeing it.” She met his eyes. “Tywin Lannister will pay for what he’s done, but it won’t be the police that takes him down, it’ll be a ghost he thought he buried.”

__

Jon's eyes had gone wide again, he swallowed thickly and ran a hand over his face, wincing as his fingers brushed over his black eye.

__

She pressed her lips between her teeth, hating the knowledge that she was hurting him. She already felt like she couldn’t get enough air to force out everything else she needed to say. But she had gone this far, she had to tell him the rest.

__

“The governor showed up at the hospital after I had lost my son. My father’s closest associates guarded my door at all times telling anyone who passed that I wouldn’t make it through the night. The governor had agreed to help me fake my death. The doctor employed at the hospital was a family friend, one I trusted, and he declared that Daenerys Targaryen died at four thirty in the morning and he saw the body to the morgue himself. I was moved to another room, my hair dyed then and there, and given the name Dany Storm.”

__

Jon let out a shuddering breath, hanging his head. “How long ago was this?”

__

“Three years. I’ve been waiting, gathering any and all information I can, working on my backstory. I went to school to get certified as a teacher and with some money convinced the old teacher here to retire.” She ran her fingers over the worn quilt that covered his bed, getting lost in the faded patterns of it for a moment. “The bankers made it look like my father’s money was disbursed to his associates, but it’s all sitting in my account.”

__

She finally dared to reach out and brush a hand down his leg. “I had no intention of ever getting involved with someone, again. While I came to love Drogo, part of me always feared him, and if that’s what love was I wanted no part of it. _You_ were completely unexpected,” she said with a small smile. “It rattled me how a simple smile from you could disarm me so completely. And I know I wasn’t honest with you.” At this, her smile faded, and she looked down again, guilt warring with her need for revenge. “But it’s necessary for Tywin to believe I’m dead. I have a mission in this town, and it’s to see the fall of his empire. I...I just...I don’t want to lose you because of it.”

__

He was silent for so long, his head lowered, brow furrowed deep and dark as he stared at the quilt, his full lips held tight between his teeth. His voice was soft when he spoke, “Was your trip up here that first day for information gatherin’ or—“

__

She grabbed his hand, ducking her head to catch his eyes, praying to anyone that would listen he could see the truth in hers. “That was me being a teacher. I got a snake in my desk and I didn’t want another one,” she said softly. “I swear to you, I didn’t know anything about your family when I walked up this mountain. And then you came to the door with your dark eyes.” She brushed her fingers through his curls, tucking a few behind his ear. “And this wild hair, shiny and black as a raven's wing...I was stunned to find you and even more so at how quickly I was charmed by you.” She sighed. “I was truly only living for revenge. Love wasn’t something I wanted.”

__

His eyes shifted to the quilt again. He licked his lips. “And now?”

__

She crawled on her knees, pushing her way between his arms and legs and cupped his sweet face in her hands, looking at him through her watery eyes. “Now, I’ll fight like hell to keep it.”

__

A rush of air left him and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him. She went willingly, holding him just as tight, doing her best not to let her tears fall. “I don’t want you tangled up in all a’ this,” he murmured into her neck. “I want you safe and sound—“

__

She shook her head, running a hand over his head. “You can’t ask me to stop,” she whispered. “They killed my mother and father, Jon. I lost my son because of them.” She pulled back at his deeply drawn breath. “You want them to pay for what they've done to your family, don't you?” He nodded. “You want to protect them from ever being hurt by them again?” He nodded, again. “The best way to do that is to let me help you.”

__

“Help? Help how?”

__

“I don’t know, yet, but please don’t shut me out because you’re trying to protect me.”

__

He leaned his head against her sternum and after a moment he lifted it, gazing at her. “I reckon we’ll have to talk about what you know that we don’t, and vice versa.”

__

“Later. Tonight, I just want to sleep in your arms.”

__

Without a word he pulled her down onto the bed with him and got them settled beneath the quilt once more, facing each other. She reached over to the lamp and turned it off and when she rolled back, she found the full moon lighting up the room and his handsome face.

__

He brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “I love you,” he whispered. “All that stuff...it don’t change how I feel ‘bout you.”

__

She released a relieved breath. “You’re sure?”

__

He nodded. “If it changed it then I’d lose you. I ain't willin’ to let that happen.”

__

Dany smiled and kissed him. She felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders having come clean to the man she loved. He pulled away, rubbing his hand over her back. “We’ll figure all of this out, together,” she promised. “I won’t lose someone else I love ever again.”

__

He tightened his hold on her. “Me either.”

__

*~*

__

Quiet sniffling woke her, the bed shifting and squeaking beneath her. She sat up, finding Rickon crawling up between her and Jon. Her heart broke hearing his crying, no doubt their horrible day had haunted his dreams. She held out her arms to him and he came to her. The quilt was pulled from underneath him, then draped over them both. She looked up and saw Jon awake as well. Rickon settled down between them, touching them both and soon his breathing turned even and deep.

__

She could barely make Jon out, but smiled against Rickon’s hair as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

__

“I love you,” she whispered.

__

He kissed her palm. “That’s a good thing cause I fell in love with ya the second I laid eyes on ya. Lost completely.”

__

Her heart soared at his declaration. She rested her cheek against the top of Rickon’s head, keeping a tight grip on Jon's hand, their thumbs stroking over each other's fingers. He loved his family and she loved him. She would do everything in her power to protect them. She’d keep them all safe.

__

*~*

__

Dany awoke for the second time feeling a little body shift away. She opened her eyes to see Jon gone but Rickon was kneeling beside her, his head tilted as he looked at her, curls a wild halo around his little face. “Miss Storm, you spent the night?”

__

“I did.” She sat up, holding the quilt to her chest, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “I was worried about you,” she said, her fingers attempting to tame his curls. “I wanted to stay and make sure you were alright to come to school and help me today.”

__

He shook his head. “I wanna stay here with Jon.”

__

“I know, but I really need you with me, and your brother agrees.”

__

The door opened then and Jon entered. Rage welled up within her seeing the state of his eye. It was swollen shut, the skin a nasty purple. The two cuts stood out dark and angry amongst the bruised and swollen flesh. She’d love to get her hands on the man who hurt him. She knew Rickon would react badly once he saw it as well.

__

Sure enough, when he looked over his shoulder he gasped. Jon sat down on the edge of the bed and Rickon climbed into his lap immediately touching a finger to the swollen skin.

__

Jon shied away, hissing. “I don’t poke at your cuts and scrapes. Don’t go pokin’ at mine,” he said with a teasing smile.

__

“Does it hurt?”

__

“Looks worse than it feels,” he told him, picking him up. “Go on to your room and get dressed.” Jon had sat his feet on the floor, but Rickon still clung to his arm. “Rickon, you’re goin’ to school. It’ll do us good to know you’re with Miss Storm learnin’. We got a lotta stuff to fix round here and I can’t do it if you’re stuck to me like a burr all day.”

__

“But what if those men come back!?”

__

Jon sighed and brushed his hand over his hair before settling it on his little shoulder. “You can’t fight ‘em off. I made the mistake, little man. I lost my temper. _If_ they come back, an I don't believe they will, I won't let myself get angry again. I’ll behave, I promise. The best way to help me now is to go get dressed and ready for school,” he said, his tone firm, but understanding.

__

Rickon looked at her, his eyes pleading but she gave him a nod, silently telling him she agreed with Jon. The little boy’s shoulders sagged in defeat as he shuffled from the room.

__

Dany moved closer to Jon and he slid an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Mornin’. Sure was nice wakin’ up and seein’ you next to me.”

__

She tugged on one of his damp curls. He’d bathed already and had them combed back from his face. “You cheated me out of that by getting up so early,” she fussed playfully then reached up gently tracing the edge of the bruise around his eye. “How is it, really?”

__

“Throbs. And the headache that’s come along with it ain't pleasant,” he admitted. “I’ll let you get dressed. Just came in cause I heard voices.”

__

“Walls that thin?” she asked as they stood up.

__

He chuckled. “Yes.”

__

She was at her suitcase when he cleared his throat. “Fore I go, I wanna give you somethin’.” When she turned to look, he was crossing the space between them, holding up a small box in his hand. “Open it,” he encouraged, once he’d reached her side.

__

She took off the lid, and there, nestled within a scrap of yellowed linen were two gold hairpins with beautiful little bees on the ends. “Oh Jon, they're lovely,” she said looking up at him with a smile.

__

“They were my Ma’s,” he whispered. “I want you to have em. They’re one of the few things I have a’ hers, but I think, from the way Pa always talked about her and how she loved me ‘fore I was ever here, that she’d want me to give em to someone I love.”

__

She brought a hand to her mouth, overwhelmed by the gesture. As she continued to stare at them she brought a hesitant finger up to touch the little bees. “Jon, are you sure? They were your mother’s.”

__

He nodded. “She was the first woman to ever love me. Figure these should go to the woman _I_ love.”

__

Swallowing down the lump in her throat she gently took them from the box, then wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed him. His arms slipped around her waist as she pressed all her hopes for the future into her hand, feeling the little bees making an imprint in her palm.

__

“Ew, they’re kissin’!” Rickon groaned from the doorway and stomped off down the hall. Laughter erupted from another room.

__

Jon shook his head. “I’ll let you get ready.”

__

She pulled him back before he got too far away. “Thank you for trusting me with them, I’ll cherish them, always.”

__

He took her into his arms again, holding her close and mumbled against her temple, “I love you, Dany.”

__

“I love you, too,” she managed to whisper.

__

He left her to get ready, pulling the door closed behind him. She heard him chastising Rickon for not knocking and another round of laughter followed. She brought the pins up, studying their tiny details, her heart swelling behind her ribs. _How she loved Jon Snow!_

__

Fifteen minutes later, she was ready for the day except she needed to use the bathroom. But she found the door closed, the sound of someone vomiting coming from inside. She walked around the corner and into the kitchen. Jon was seated at the table with Bran and Rickon, an older gentleman, and another that looked to be around his own age. Robb Stark she assumed.

__

“Good morning,” she said brightly.

__

“This is my teacher Miss Storm,” Rickon said. “She slept here cause she was worried ‘bout me.”

__

“How thoughtful of her,” Robb said, a knowing smirk on his handsome face. He stood and shook her hand. “Glad to finally meet the elusive Miss Storm. Think my brother wasn’t bein’ honest ‘bout how pretty you are,” he said, glancing at Jon. Of course, he was blushing despite his broody scowl.

__

“Another charming Stark,” she said with a smile. “Family trait?”

__

Robb grinned. “Sure as snow falls.” He motioned to the older fellow. “This is Bronn Blackwater. He helps us...” He hesitated for a moment trying to figure out how to explain the presence of the other man she guessed. “run the farm.”

__

“Ma'am,” Bronn greeted, shaking her hand as well. He sat back down, cutting dark looks at Jon and his brother. “You boys are  _far_ too lucky,” he muttered.

__

Dany walked over to Bran, giving him a smile and holding out the books she'd remembered to grab just before she left home the night before. “Good morning. New delivery for you. I brought mostly mysteries this time. Thought you might like some just for fun.” She found _Just William_ and passed it to him. “The lady who wrote this had polio too. She was a teacher like me until she got sick, now she's a famous author.”

__

Bran’s blue eyes sparkled as a smile stretched across his young face. He stared speechless for a moment before taking them from her and laying them in his lap. “Thank you, Miss Storm. I’m gonna go start em now.”

__

His older brothers smiled as he backed up, spun around and rolled himself down the hall, quick as he could.

__

Jon caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.”

__

She shook her head. “There's not much better than seeing them so happy about learning,” she said, shifting on her feet, her personal need becoming a bit too much to ignore.

__

Jon stood and ran his hand down her arm, obviously able to sense something was wrong. “What is it?”

__

“I need the restroom, but it sounds like someone’s sick,” she whispered.

__

“That’s Margaery,” Rickon answered over a mouthful of eggs. “Bronn says the baby’s makin’ her sick.”

__

Everyone in the room was looking at him, and none of the men wore happy expressions. She took a deep breath and decided to put them at ease. “Do you have any saltines?”

__

Jon nodded, though he looked confused as he walked over to the cupboard, reached in, then handed her the box. She went back down the hall and softly knocked on the door. She was bid to enter by a miserable voice. She found Margaery, a beautiful woman with blonde hair and striking eyes sitting on the floor, leaned against the cool wall of tile beside her, her face covered in sweat. She looked up, her expression one of misery, but quickly tied her robe at seeing an unfamiliar face.

__

Dany smiled gently, opening the box and producing a cracker. “I’m Dany. These helped with my morning sickness.”

__

Margaery took it from her and nibbled just a little on the end, leaning her head back against the wall. “Jon didn’t tell us you had a child.”

__

That well-known ache settled in her chest as she sat on the edge of the tub. “I don’t. I lost him,” she said softly.

__

Margaery looked on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry.”

__

Dany waved her off. “You didn’t know.” She handed the box to her. “Keep these beside your bed and have one, at least, before you get up. Something in your stomach will help and saltines are easiest to keep down.” Margaery nibbled on the cracker as Dany stood and filled a cup with water and handed it over. “Tea helps, too,” she offered. “Peppermint or ginger is best.”

__

They were both quiet until Margaery had finished the cracker and took several deep breaths. “Not the best first impression,” she deadpanned.

__

Dany smiled. “I can forget this ever happened and meet you properly at a later time if you like.”

__

Margaery gave her a half-smile and shook her head. “No, I think I like this better than a _proper_ introduction.”

__

She nodded, smirking. “It’s fitting for me, actually. I’m hardly proper.”

__

Margaery snorted and leaned her head back against the wall. “Me either. Probably labeled a trollop in town.”

__

“Actually, no. People feel bad you had to marry Joffrey. He’s the one with the horrible labels. All deserved from my understanding.” She sighed. “Being married to a man that you don’t like and even fear isn’t an easy thing.”

__

“Sounds like personal experience speaking.”

__

She nodded. “It was a long hard road to get where I am today,” she answered. “Perhaps if we become friends I can tell you all about it. We can trade war stories.”

__

Margaery nodded and smiled. “I think I’d like that, very much.” She rose to her feet and Dany stood as well, letting her pass her on the way out of the bathroom.

__

Dany closed the door behind her and leaned against it for just a moment. Things on this mountain seemed to grow more complicated by the second. She needed to find a solution to keep them safe and quickly.

__

*~*

__

They were able to leave the house without too much of a scuffle. There was only a bit of whining from Rickon and light teasing from Robb, Margaery scolding him all the while.

__

It had only taken Dany a few moments of seeing the couple together to know they never should’ve parted. Their love was a bright glow between them, despite the hardships bearing down on their shoulders. They were good people and obviously loved Jon and the boys, Arya and Gendry too. A mixture of pain and hope warred within Dany’s chest seeing them all together. She missed her family terribly, even if they hadn't been the best the world had to offer. But seeing Jon’s...she ached to her bones to truly be a part of them.

__

As they rumbled and bumped down the twisting mountain road, the crisp fall air filling her lungs and leaving stirring pinpricks over her bare skin, little Rickon in her lap, her lover's watchful, but smiling sooty eyes glancing at her every now and then, she sent up another prayer to the heavens above. One of many that had left her over the last several weeks.

__

_Please. Please don't take this from me, too._

__

“You alright Miss Storm?” Rickon whispered, patting her wet face.

__

She smiled at him, pinching his freckled nose before quickly wiping away the tear she hadn't even realized she’d let escape. “Of course I am. Just the wind making my eyes water.” She felt the weight of Jon’s eyes on her and reached over to squeeze his arm as she distracted Rickon. “Look how the leaves are starting to change colors. Aren't they pretty?”

__

“I like em, but I don’t know why they do that. I asked Bran, and ya know what he told me?”

__

“Tell me.”

__

“He said they're dead! That ain't true, is it?”

__

She bit back a chuckle and shook her head. “Well...no, not yet they aren't. Only when they turn brown and crumble under our feet. Right now they're almost like flowers in the spring. Giving us something beautiful to look at before everything turns grey and cold.”

__

“Yeah, cause winter's comin’. Ain't that right, Jon? Us Starks know, don't we?”

__

Jon huffed out a laugh while changing gears, turning them onto the road to town. “Yeah, we do. Winter is comin’, but not for a little while yet.”

__

“Is this more wise mountain knowledge?” she asked Jon, smiling over at him.

__

“Somethin’ like that. Pa used to say it a good bit. Bein’ up on the mountain like we are,” he shrugged, “we know it's comin’ 'fore anyone else does.”

__

They’d made it to the school. It was early enough none of the other children had arrived yet, so Jon pulled up to her house. She'd left her lessons inside. They all got out, Rickon once again clinging to Jon’s arm as they followed her to her porch.

__

“Rickon, why don't you go look over in my flower bed and see if you can find us a lizard,” she suggested, pointing to the rock-lined bed around the walnut tree in her side yard.

__

He looked up at Jon, his little nose scrunched up. “Think I can find a blue racer?”

__

“Might could, ain't too cold for em yet,” he answered.

__

“I’ll find em, just you wait!” he shouted, running off to start his hunt.

__

They smiled after him, then at one another, both pleased to see him forgetting his fears for the time being. Jon stepped up the last step and took her hand. “I better go while he's distracted. Need to see Doc Sam ‘fore I head home. Get Bran some more medicine somehow. I’ll be back to get him this afternoon. Hopefully, he won't give you no trouble.”

__

“I’ll keep him busy, he’ll be fine. Can you wait just a minute though?” she asked. He nodded but his dark eyes were suspicious. She squeezed his hand. “I'll be right back.”

__

She hurried inside and went to her bedroom. It only took her a few seconds to gather what she needed. She closed her dresser drawer then made her way back to the porch.

__

Jon turned his attention from Rickon to her, his brow wrinkled and worried. “Everythin’ alright?”

__

“Everything’s fine.” She took his hand in hers and placed the roll of bills in his palm, closing his fingers over them. “For Bran’s medicine.”

__

He looked at her as if she’d just given him his weight in gold. “Dany, I can't ta–”

__

She put her finger against his lips. “It's not pity or charity. You have enough to worry about.” She squeezed his fist in her hands. “This makes one less thing. You can pay me back later if you must, but please, let me help.”

__

He dropped his head, opening his hand and closing it again, before looking back up at her. “You don't have to do th–”

__

She stepped closer, resting a hand on his chest. “I want to do my part to help take care of...my family,” she whispered. He hadn't said anything about her being family yet, but she truly felt they could be hers. She had no plans on ever walking away from him and knew they were a package deal.

__

He stuffed the money in his pocket then took her face in his hands and kissed her. Right there on her front porch, with the sun shining bright and her neighbors no doubt watching through their curtains.

__

*~*

__

“Who can tell me why our plants inside the terrarium will keep growing?”

__

“Cause we’re gonna water em through the hole?”

__

“We could, but we won't have to. We’ll only open it to feed our beautiful blue racer Rickon found us. Anyone else? Yes, Myrcella?”

__

“They’ll keep growing because of the water cycle, Miss Storm. The lid and the glass let the sun get through and build heat inside. The plants and soil release moisture and it condenses on the glass then slides down and waters the plants again.”

__

“Very good, Myrcella.”

__

They were all startled by someone clapping, crisp and slow from behind them. The children all spun around as fear and rage roiled deep within Dany's gut.

__

Ramsay Bolton and his comrade Locke were strolling around the side of the schoolhouse.

 

“Such a wonderful presentation. You’re quite the teacher, Miss Storm.”

__

She swallowed the fear down and glanced at the children. Some watched Ramsay making his slow approach, others were staring wide-eyed at her. “Yes, it's crucial to teach children early about the important things, like manners, and not being where they aren’t supposed to be.” She looked down at her students. “All of you, go inside. Now, please,” she said as she stood and the majority of the students rushed away. Myrcella was the oldest of the group at twelve, so she grabbed her by the arm as she passed. “Lock the door behind you. Don't open it for anyone. You're not allowed out until I come to unlock the door,” she whispered. Myrcella nodded and ran inside with the rest of the children, the door closing ominously behind her.

__

“What a shame to send them away,” Ramsay tisked. “We could have taught them a lesson or two on how to handle a woman who doesn’t know her place.” His cool demeanor was unnerving, leaving Dany more on edge with each passing moment. She had her switchblade beneath her garter and would use it if he got too close, but hoped she wouldn't have to. Locke had circled to her other side, his presence prickling her skin. “And what is this you’re working on?” Ramsay asked, feigning interest.

__

She knew the longer she stalled the better chance she had of someone passing by and seeing them. She folded her arms over her chest, choosing defiance in the face of what she now knew to be pure evil. “It’s a terrarium for the classroom.”

__

Ramsey crouched down to get a good look at it while Locke moved ever closer to her. “And what a fine piece of work it is.”

__

She stepped forward as he removed the lid, only for Locke to rush from behind and grab her by the arms. “Don’t move girl unless you want all dem youngin’s traumatized by seein’ us _deal_ with you.”

__

She didn't struggle, but glared at Ramsay, hate boiling within her. “The children have worked hard on that project. They’re innocent, leave them out of this,” she argued.

__

The same creepy smile she’d seen at the social stretched across his face and dread filled her. He clapped his hands then rubbed them together. “It has all the pieces one needs. I’m afraid, though, your lizard is lacking.” He reached in and picked it up by the tail letting it fight his hold while he removed a knife from his boot. And with a quick flick of his wrist, he’d severed the head, laughing quietly as the body continued to squirm, its blood leaking to the ground. He dropped the body back into the bowl, then retrieved the head, tossing it in as well before closing it. “There, all better.”

__

She tried to block out the sound of Rickon's cries, his fists banging on the glass. Her heart ached for him, but she knew she was dealing with two crazed individuals capable of anything, she had to stay focused.

__

“You’ve had your fun. All the children are terrorized and their parents will be saying plenty around town about that. You need to leave.”

__

Ramsay was in her face, his knife sliding down her silk blouse, teasing each button. “Oh, I think there is a lot of fun to be had,” he whispered. “Just look at you. Tell you what, you toss the bastard aside and I’ll fuck you.”

__

A shiver ran down her spine at his apathetic tone. He had no regard for anyone or anything save himself and his own sick enjoyment.

__

“I’ll fuck you either way,” Locke whispered in her ear.

__

Ramsay rolled his eyes. “Oh, I suppose you’re right, old chap. She probably needs the taste of a real man. Silly me.” He looked over her shoulder to the schoolhouse, the children all watching through the windows. “Do you think they would even know what was happening to you? Could be quite the educational experience.”

__

“You’re abhorrent!” she hissed. “Both of you.” She eyed Ramsay's taped nose and the yellow around his eyes. He still wasn't healed completely from the beating Jon had given him. “Sore losers because you got beaten up by better men, and in your case,” she looked over her shoulder at Locke, “a girl. Crawl back to whatever hole you came from.”

__

Ramsay’s knife sliced off one of her buttons, then another, leaving her blouse gaping open. Her blood boiled with rage. She would never be a victim again.

__

“Oh, we’ll go back, but only after we’ve ruined you. There will be nothing left of you for the bastard to use,” he said and another button fell to the ground. “Locke, here, has an insatiable appetite.”

__

“For the last time, you both need to leave,” she said firmly. Her mind flashed to her friends in Boston. Jorah and Jeor. Grey and Missandei. These two would be skinned alive already for daring to touch her. And Jon, her sweet loving Jon, would have already killed them both.

__

“And I told you, we’re going to give the children inside an education on what women are really for. You can be a willing participant, _or_ , and this is my preference, you can scream and fight. Your choice.”

__

Taking the only chance she might have, she stomped on Locke’s foot and brought her elbow up to crush his nose. The sound was disgusting, and the blood splatter infuriating. Her favorite blouse was ruined. That he had collapsed to the ground wailing helped a bit, but Ramsay's hand was now around her throat, his eyes feral.

__

“Ramsay,” a familiar and welcome voice called out, filling her with relief. “You step away from her or I’ll be tellin’ your father how I had to put a bullet in ya.”

__

Ramsay glared at her for only a moment before he let her go, tucked his knife inside his suit jacket, and turned around, hands held up towards Sheriff Davos. “Mister Locke and I were just leaving...”

__

“Miss Storm,” Davos said, his eyes taking in her cut blouse. She reached up and closed it. “Did they hurt you?”

__

“Locke grabbed me, _again_. Ramsay used his knife on the buttons of my shirt. He also killed the lizard in the children's terrarium,” she said softly, looking towards all the little faces in the windows staring back at her. Rickon was sobbing, his head in his hands, shoulders shaking. _Ramsay, you son of a bitch!_

__

“Leave,” Davos ordered them. “And if I catch you anywhere near her, or here, again, I’ll arrest you.”

__

Locke walked past them both, still holding his bloody nose, but Ramsay turned around, smiling at her as he slowly walked backward. “It was a pleasure, Miss Storm,” he purred. “Tell your bastard I hope he enjoyed his visitors yesterday.”

__

“Ramsay, leave, now!”

__

With a wink, he finally turned around and ambled off, joining his foul friend.

__

Davos rushed forward and removed his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “What’d they say to you?”

__

“They were threatening to rape me in front of my class,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice from trembling, but failing. She was so angry she was near tears.

__

He let out a vicious curse, then shook his head. “Let's go check on em,” he said, picking up the terrarium. Dany stopped him, opening the lid and removing the lizard. Davos closed his eyes, his frown haggard. “I’m sorry, Miss Storm.”

__

“Can I file a complaint? Charges?”

__

Davos sighed, about to speak when the boy the children called Hot Pie got out of the police car and ran towards them. “What are you doing out here?” she asked, stunned.

__

“Myrcella tolt’ me to go out the back an’ through the woods ta get the sheriff. You alright, Miss Storm?”

__

She smiled and nodded, cupping his chubby cheek. “Thanks to you,” she said softly.

__

He lowered his head and kicked the ground, much like she’d seen Rickon do under praise.

__

“I’m gonna stay with ya the rest of the day,” Davos said as they entered the vestibule, “and help explain to the parents what happened here.”

__

She frowned, her mind now filled with worried parents. “I wonder how many of them won’t let their children attend school anymore?”

__

Davos shook his head. “That’d be a shame. But it’s possible.”

__

Myrcella opened the door and she was suddenly surrounded by children, a lot of them crying about the lizard, some of the older ones, like Myrcella, understanding the true danger she had been in and asking after her. Then she noticed Rickon sitting near her desk, his curly head buried in his knees. “Children, we’ll get a new lizard but why don’t you all take the terrarium inside and tell Sheriff Davos about the different pieces and parts,” she said cheerfully.

__

They did as asked, a few wrapping their arms around her briefly. She rubbed each little head and sent them on, then went to Rickon, approaching him as she would a wounded animal. He’d seen too many awful things in the last twenty-four hours.

__

“Hey, little man,” she whispered, using Jon’s name for him as she touched his curls. “Why don’t you come with me?”

__

He scrambled into her arms and she picked him up holding him tight as she signaled to Davos she was going to step outside. She took them out the back door and sat on the steps, settling him in her lap. Rocking him, she placed kisses in his hair, her arms tight around him. She was relishing in his comfort as much as he was hers. “We’re alright,” she said softly. “You’re alright. I’m alright.”

__

“That man kilt our lizard and put a knife to you,” he whimpered.

__

“He did. But Sheriff Davos showed up and made them leave. And did you not see me elbow that man in the nose?” she asked, only then noticing the ache in her elbow where it had made contact. “I know how to protect myself.”

__

“They was gonna hurt you–”

__

“They were going to try and fail,” she told him. She held him closer. “Rickon, I want you to listen to me, alright? Sometimes, bad things happen. It’s the way of the world,” she whispered. “But it’s our ability to get up, brush ourselves off, and keep going that makes us stronger.” She lifted his head from her shoulder, cupping his sweet face in her hands. “It’s not fair that you’ve had to see the bad side of people a lot in the last two days. But that just means when you stand up and brush yourself off, you’ll be the strongest little man there is.” Her words hadn’t seemed to help, his face still set in a frown. “Look at me,” she said. His watery blue eyes met hers, breaking her heart, but she had to be strong for him. “I’m alright. You’re alright. Your classmates are alright. That’s what’s important. The bad men didn't win.”

__

“Will they come back?” he asked, his breath hitching.

__

She heaved a sigh. “I wish I could say they won't, but the truth is I don’t know. It would be stupid of them to try something like that again. But that’s not for you to worry about.” She wiped his tears away with her thumbs and gave him a soft smile. “You know what your job is? To be the best person you can be, which you’re already doing.” She brushed her fingers through his hair. “Think we can go back in, now?”

__

He took a deep breath, wiped his nose with his sleeve and nodded. She stood and put him on the step. “You're the bravest boy, and I'm so proud of you,” she told him as she opened the door. They walked in to find the students still gathered around her desk with Davos listening intently as Shireen explained about the soil they used. Rickon stayed close but didn’t reach for her.

__

Davos looked up at Dany and she gave him a weak smile. “Miss Storm, these children have told me more about soil and plants than I think my brain can handle,” he chuckled.

__

“That’s because they’re all very bright. Best students I could ever ask for.”

__

Myrcella stepped closer to her. “Are you alright, Miss Storm?”

__

“I’m fine, sweetling. Thank you for thinking so quickly to send someone.”

__

She blushed under the praise. “Hot Pie was the only one brave enough to go,” she whispered.

__

“And you followed my instructions brilliantly. I’m so very proud of you,” she said as she put a hand on her shoulder.

__

Dany knew the parents would be unhappy with the events of today. She only hoped the weekend would give everyone time to let cooler heads prevail.

__

*~*

__

She was still wearing Davos’ jacket as they stood in front of a group of parents, explaining the events of that morning. Several were outraged Dany had allowed it to happen, others were concerned about there being no repercussions reaped on Ramsay and Locke for what was essentially assault.

__

Dany knew he was coming, had been waiting, but her heart kicked a riot behind her ribs when she saw the familiar truck pull up into the yard. Rickon took off like a rocket racing towards him. Jon was already out of the truck, no doubt worried at seeing such a crowd and the Sheriff there. Something close to fear crept up from her stomach, not of him, but for him. There was no telling what he’d do once his little brother told him everything that had happened.

__

“What’s gonna be done, Seaworth? From what I saw at the social the other night, this ain't the first time Ramsay’s attacked this girl and now he’s doin’ it in front of her class? He has to be stopped!” one mother insisted.

__

“You can’t stop him! Roose Bolton’s his daddy and we all know he’s in Lannister’s pocket,” another chimed.

__

Jon walked slowly toward them, his fists balled at his sides, his jaw tight, and brow heavy under his cap. She stomped down on her sudden need to grab him and run far away where no one would ever hurt them again. But she wasn't a coward. Neither was he. They would face their enemies together and win. There was no other option.

__

Davos looked through the crowd, his eyes landing on the middle-aged man Shireen was standing with. “Mayor Baratheon, perhaps you have a suggestion?”

__

Everyone turned to look at him and the little girl at his side. Shireen was one of her brightest students, a voracious reader. “What would you have me do, Sheriff?”

__

“Put some sort of law in place. Somethin’ to keep this from happenin’ again.”

__

He sighed and Shireen tugged on his hand. Dany couldn’t understand why the man was even hesitating. “I’m not sure a law would stop it, and they take time to put in place.”

__

“It couldn’t hurt!” one of the women in the crowd insisted.

__

Watching him, how his eyes avoided his townspeople, his tense shoulders, Daenerys realized he must be in Tywin’s pocket as well. He wasn’t going to do a thing. Not even for the sake of his daughter.

__

She cleared her throat. “I’ll keep the students inside from now on. If they come into the school then they can be arrested for trespassing. I apologize to all of you for what happened today.”

__

Several of the women came to speak to her directly, thanking her for her quick thinking to usher the children into the school. Several of the men as well. Others left without a word, just worried looks cast towards her. She hoped they allowed her students to come back.

__

Only one man remained in front of them. His blonde hair and green eyes shining brightly in the afternoon sun. He extended his hand. “Jaime Lannister.”

__

She nodded and smiled. “Myrcella and Tommen’s father. They’re both very bright.”

__

“Thank you.” He looked over, eyeing Jon waiting off to the side. “Myrcella filled in more details about what happened. Are you alright?”

__

She nodded, lowering her head. “I’m fine. A little rattled because of the children being witnesses, but _I’m_ fine.”

__

He shifted his weight and sighed. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

__

“I’m not sure what you can do, but I appreciate it all the same.”

__

He nodded. “The children will see you Monday.”

__

Once he was gone and all the cars had pulled away, Jon finally stepped closer. “Are you alright?” he asked as he stood in front of her, not touching her. _Jon, don’t you dare try this again._

__

She nodded and looked at Rickon at his side. “I’m fine. We both are. Aren’t we, little man?”

__

Rickon nodded. “Dustin’ myself off,” he said with a small smile.

__

Davos shuffled closer and took in Jon’s eye. “Someone wanna tell me what the hell is goin’ on 'round here? You beat up Ramsay, he comes and harasses her today and torments those children, then here you are with a black eye! Is that from the raid yesterday?”

__

“Yeah! A man hit Jon with his shotgun,” Rickon offered.

__

Davos ran a hand over his head of wiry hair. “Olenna told me all about it. Never seen that woman cry a day in her life, but she was damn near hysterical about what happened to all a’ you. Everyone’s alright, though? Bran?”

__

Jon nodded. “It was a rough night,” he said as he ran a hand over Rickon’s head, “but we’re alright.”

__

Davos took a deep breath. “I’ll trust you can escort Miss Storm home?” Jon nodded again, but Dany noticed he was barely looking at her. Davos took his offered coat from her then climbed inside his police car and drove away.

__

“Rickon,” Jon said softly, “go wait in the truck for me.”

__

“But I don't wanna. I wanna stay here with you and Miss Storm.”

__

Jon dropped his head and drew in a deep breath. Dany stepped up and laid a hand on his cheek. “Jon, look at me.” To her relief he did, but the nagging ache in her chest ratcheted up another notch. He looked like a drowning man, fear, anger, and helplessness tearing him apart. “I’m alright. I promise. He didn't hurt me, just did his best to scare us all.”

__

Suddenly, she was in his arms, her body crushed to his. She let herself unravel a bit, sinking into his embrace, allowing his scent and strength wrapped around her to ease her frayed nerves.

__

He took in another deep breath, his face buried in her neck. “Go inside and pack up some more things. I’m takin’ you home,” he whispered.

__

Her heart skipped a beat hearing him call it _home_. As if it was hers as much as his. But she pulled back, unable to shake the feeling he’d said it more out of some manly need to protect her rather than it being where she belonged. She hated that voice in her head. It was the same one that had her questioning every move she’d made for the last three years.

__

“I’ll be fine here. Besides, being _alone_ up on your mountain is...difficult,” she said with a soft smile and a glance at Rickon, who was hanging on their every word. It would be nearly impossible.

__

“You can’t think I’m gonna leave you here alone,” Jon argued.

__

Dany dropped her arms to her sides and Jon let her go. She took a steadying breath. “So, it’s more for my protection than it is where I _should_ be? In that case, I decline.”

__

“Dany...I didn’t mean that at all—”

__

“Right, you simply meant I can’t take care of myself and I need you to do it for me.”

__

“I didn’t mean that either,” he spat. “Why’re you tryin’ to pick a fight with me?”

__

“I’m not! You’re the one suggesting I need your protection. Believe me when I say it, if those idiots decide to try something again, one of them will get the knife I have tucked in my garter. The other got a broken nose today.” She was nearly panting, her every muscle trembling, her stomach sick and twisted. She shook her head and held up her hands. “You know what? I’m not doing this right now. Take Rickon home,” she said as she started walking toward her house.

__

The slaps of little running feet followed her and suddenly Rickon was in her path. “Don’t go home!”

__

Jon was close behind. “Rickon, go get in the truck. Miss Dany and I are talkin’.”

__

She turned to face him. “No, we’re _done_ talking.”

__

Rickon tugged on her hand. “Please, Miss Dany. We need ya. All a’ us!” He looked at Jon and the angry scowl on his little face was almost comical. “Tell Miss Dany we need her!”

__

Jon shifted on his feet, a blush rising upon his cheeks, but he at least looked her in the eyes when he responded. “I need ya. Not cause I think you need protectin’ but cause I want ya with me...all the time.”

__

Rickon nodded emphatically. “See, Miss Dany! I need you ta sing me songs. Miss Margaery needs you to help her stop bein’ sick. And you bring books to Bran. And Jon needs ya cause he only smiles when you're with him! You’re part a’ our pack!”

__

She nearly let out a happy wrenching sob, but bit her lip instead and crouched in front of Rickon. “I would have come _just_ because I need to sing you songs,” she whispered. He threw his arms around her neck and she hugged him back, looking up at an obviously apologetic Jon.

__

They walked to the truck, Jon closing the door behind her as Rickon sat on her lap and rested his head against her shoulder. Jon drove them around to her house and she invited them in with her. After changing clothes, her ruined blouse thrown in the trash, she took her suitcase from that morning and packed it full. She gathered all her cash, stuffing it into the lining of the suitcase then tucked the list there as well. The rest was clothes, toiletries, and the few pictures she had of her family. She wouldn’t put them out, but it always made her feel better to have them close.

__

Rickon was seated on her sofa as Jon slowly paced back and forth in her living room. Rickon noticed her first. “Your house is real nice, Miss Dany.”

__

She smiled and held out her free hand to him. He took it and Jon her suitcase, loading it into the truck as she locked the door behind them. Once again, Rickon climbed onto her lap and before they were out of town, he was asleep. She held him close, her lips pressed to his hair.

__

“I don’t think you can’t handle yourself,” Jon finally spoke. “I need you with us this weekend.” He shook his head. “I need ya ‘round _all_ the time.”

__

Dany rested her cheek against Rickon’s head. “If you had said it like that we could have avoided the argument.”

__

His shoulders sagged and he glanced at her. “I love you. I don’t wanna fight with you. But after what happened today, and yesterday, it'll give me peace a' mind to walk into the house and see your face.” He shook his head again. “I’m not very good at explainin’.”

__

She reached for his hand. “You’re better than you think.”

__

He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “We’ll find somewhere, somehow to be alone. More an once. Several times,” he said with a chuckle.

__

“I believe you. I know you're a man of your word.”

__

He smiled. “Prepare yourself.”

__

“What exactly am I preparing myself for?”

__

“Arya and Robb. They’re not gonna let this go without pokin’ at it.”

__

She shrugged. “I’m not ashamed of our relationship, Jon. In fact, I think the best way to keep them quiet would be oversharing about our nights together.”

__

He looked over at her with fear in his eyes. “You ain't gonna do that, are ya? Cause I’ll never hear the end of it even if it quiets them ta start.”

__

She shrugged. “Depends on how unruly they get.”

__

“Dany.” The word was a warning but it sent a bolt of desire straight through her. She bit her lip to hide her smile.

__

This would certainly be an interesting few days.

__

*~*

__

Margaery and Bran were surprised to see her again so quickly, but Rickon hadn't wasted a moment running to tell them what had happened to them as she and Jon had climbed out of the truck. After giving Rickon a tight hug and quick once over Margaery had stood and wrapped Dany in a hug as well whispering how thankful she was they were both alright. Bran had said the same, giving her a solemn nod.

__

Jon had taken her things to his room, kissed her forehead with a promise to return soon, then disappeared, off to help the other men with something while she stayed with Margaery and the boys. But he’d left Ghost behind with a softly ordered _stay._ The white wolf was sprawled across the floor near the front door. Summer and Shaggydog doing the same in the kitchen.

__

Margaery insisted she had supper well in hand so she busied herself with the boys. She and Bran had sat on the porch while watching Rickon hunt for a new lizard and talking about the books she'd brought him, he was over half done with _Just William_ already.

__

But night had come and the four of them had finished supper, covered plates left on the table for the rest of the family.

__

She and Margaery worked together to help Bran to the bathroom, then into bed. But she could tell by the time they were done, Margaery was dead on her feet. She only had to fuss with her for a moment before convincing her she could get Rickon bathed and in the bed herself. She’d laughed, her heartwarming when Margaery had joked she may never let Jon take her back down the mountain again before she’d shuffled off to her room.

__

Her fingers were scrubbing Rickon's soapy curls when Jon poked his head in. The sight must have caught him off guard, he stood speechless and staring for a moment before pulling his lush bottom lip between his teeth, though it did nothing to hide the smile in his eyes. Her heart tumbled over and she smiled right back.

__

“Y'all alright?” he asked.

__

“We’re splendid, aren't we?” she asked Rickon, tilting his head back to look at her.

__

“Yup,” he answered, popping the _p,_ and going right back to playing with his cups, pouring water from one to the next.

__

“We’re almost done. Go eat your supper, it's bound to be cold by now.”

__

“Meet you in his room as soon as I'm finished,” he said softly.

__

She was singing about mockingbirds, looking glasses, and cart and bulls when he joined them, freshly bathed himself. His eyes were heavy upon her skin as he sat at the end of the bed. She did her best to concentrate on her words and keep the heat pooling in her belly from rising to her face.

__

Surprisingly, Rickon didn't give them any trouble, patting his covers and calling Shaggydog to sleep with him. He curled up against the black wolf and murmured goodnight. Dany kissed his cheek and turned off his light before following Jon out of the room.

__

She'd barely gotten Jon’s door shut behind them before he had her in his arms and those plush lips pressed to hers, soft and warm, his tongue a delving wet heat as he feasted like a man starved, her mouth his only source of nourishment.  

__

She whimpered, drawing from him just as deep, running her hands under his shirt and up his rippled sides, his skin hot and smooth against her palms. She wanted to feel all of him against her, every inch of him pressed to every inch of her. It was a gnawing ache that spread from her loins filling her up, but leaving her hollow as well. Only he could ease it.

__

They finally broke apart, needing air in their lungs, both panting and staring at his bed.

__

“Too squeaky,” she gasped.

__

“An' Rickon's bound to show up too,” he sighed, eyes turning to hers again, blown black and depthless. She didn't bother suppressing a shiver. His hands grasped palmfuls of her backside, pulling her closer, the hard length of his cock grinding into her. “We could take the car up the mountain.”

__

She shook her head. “Too cramped.” She wanted nothing in their way, nothing to stop what she knew was building to a raging tempest between them, their last few days leaving them both in dire need to carve out space within the other's soul, to build a shelter they could hide away in, safe from the storms. She searched her mind for such a place and the loveliest of thoughts popped into her head.

__

“What's that smile about?” he asked, running his hands up her sides and cupping her face, bringing her in for another toe-curling kiss.

__

“Take me to the barn,” she breathed against his lips. “Deflower me in the hay like all of the blushing maidens I’ve read about in my novels.”

__

Jon growled, good as his wolf, lips and tongue and beard leaving her mouth a raw, tingling mess before he forced himself to step away. He snatched the quilt from the bed and passed it to her. She wrapped it around her shoulders as he went to his chifferobe and pulled out another, tucking it under his arm. They were halfway out the door when she remembered.

__

“Wait!” she whispered, tugging her hand from his. She plucked the bee pins from her hair and placed them on the nightstand. “Don't want to risk losing one in the hay.”

__

The look on his face broke her heart and mended it all at once. She took his hand and led them through the house, taking careful, quiet steps across the old wood floors. But they pulled up short finding Bronn leaned against the kitchen sink sipping at a cup of coffee.

__

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Well, go on then, don't mind me. I’m just the hired help. God knows y’all need someone standin’ watch, all a’ ya off fuckin’ like rabbits all hours of the day and night.”

__

Jon was scowling, but Dany just giggled and pulled him out the front door.

__

“He shouldn't talk like that in front a’ you,” he grumbled as they made their way across the moonlit yard, the dew already heavy in the grass, wet and cold beneath her bare feet. He looked over his shoulder. “Ghost, to me.”

__

“My delicate sensibilities have long since turned to wicked desires,” she murmured, as his great white beast trotted from the shadows to forge the way to the barn. She leaned into his side, wrapping her arms around his trim waist only to let the hand at his stomach slide down and palm him through his pants. “You best have every intention of fucking me once we make it to that barn, Jon Snow. Because that's exactly what I want.”

__

He stopped them, turning and grabbing her up by her thighs. Her arms and legs latched around him of their own accord, cocooning them within the quilt. “You keep talkin’ like that and we won't make to the barn,” he warned.

__

“Mmmm, is that a threat?” she breathed against his neck, rubbing her aching center over him.

__

A strangled groan got hung in his throat. His hands pulled her closer as he took her mouth with his and started walking. “You're gonna be the death of me one a’ these days,” he panted between kisses.

__

“I sure hope not.”

__

It only took them a few minutes to get settled up in the loft, Ghost at watch near the door and a lantern hung safely from a post, casting a soft golden glow across the rafters. Jon had thrown one of the quilts over the pile of musty hay, saying he wouldn't have her getting all scratched up and itchy.

__

She’d started to undress as he threw the second one down, but he stopped her, brushing her hands away. “Let me. You know it's one of my favorite things to do,” he rasped, his mouth teasing at her neck and ear as his fingers worked her buttons.

__

“If you insist,” she breathed, tilting her head to give him easier access, “but I get to unwrap you too.”

__

He only grunted, focused on his task, so she went to work as well, pulling his britches open. His suspenders had been left behind at the house so they fell with a soft thump, pooling at his ankles. He stepped out of his unlaced boots and shook himself free of the restraint while pulling her dress over her head.

__

A flash of pale pink skin standing from a thatch of black curls caught her eye, peeking out from underneath the tail of his shirt while his arms were still raised. Her hand found him, delving under the linen, wrapping around the stiff length, hot and smooth and silky against her palm. She tugged gently, swiping her thumb over the plump head. He hissed, his head and eyes falling back, hands gripping her tighter. “You forgot some of your clothes after your bath, Jon,” she murmured, running her other hand up under his shirt giving herself the delightful view of his lean hips and stomach, the dips and curves of muscle catching the light and shadows thrown about the loft by the flickering lantern.

__

He was beautiful, and all hers.

__

His shirt was stripped away and she was forced to release him as his needy and impatient hands rid her of her slip and drawers. Then he had her pressed against him, lifting her thigh over his hip as he attacked her mouth. She gasped, his hot skin against hers throwing more tinder onto the already rising flames. Their hips ground together and he could have taken her there with little adjustment, but instead, his nimble fingers slipped between them, probing gently at her folds, already slick and swollen for him.

__

“So wet,” he growled, tugging at her hair, exposing her neck to his hungry mouth as he plunged two fingers inside her.

__

She cried out, clutching to him, her knees going weak, her aching cunt grasping at his fingers, grateful to finally be filled while still wanting more. Jon didn't tarry, working her with practiced skill, in and out, quick and deep, pulling just so, well learned after their many weeks together. He knew what she liked, what brought her to the cliff's edge and left her hanging there by a thin thread.

__

“Jon, please,” she begged, latching onto his wrist, hovering in that space between torment and bliss.

__

He slowed just a little and she sucked in a shuddering breath, her limbs tingling, head spinning. “What’d ya want, lass? Tell me,” he rumbled in her ear, his voice rough, accent thick.

__

She pushed at his arm and his fingers slipped free. “I need you, all of you,” she panted.

__

“What if I wanna taste you first?” he asked, his fingertips running over her clit.

__

“No. Pease, Jon.” It left her as a cry that time. Dany wasn't sure what was happening, she’d lost her footing, was being tossed about in a storm of raging needs and emotions, heaving and unrestrained.

__

“I got ya, lass. Hang on to me,” Jon urged as he lifted her once more by her thighs. She did as he’d asked and he got them to the quilt, carefully laying her down. She was latched on so tight he had nowhere to go but deeper. So he did. Lining up and driving forward, burying himself to the hilt.

__

They both seized with pleasure, throwing their heads back, their moans filling the cool still air, but quickly turning to gasps and pants as he continued to push them towards oblivion with each rolling thrust of his hips. Dany's body took over, her knees raising and spreading, hands grasping at his back and shoulders, her mouth open, drawing in each breath he gave her and giving back her own.

__

Rising higher and higher, they were swept away until the rapturous wave crashed over them and they lost themselves among the torrent. Dany was pulled under into the swirling darkness, lost for an age before coming back to the surface gasping and ruined, still clinging to Jon. He was just as spent as her.

__

They trembled together, catching their breath, their exertions, roiling emotions, and the fall night air chilling their damp skin.

__

As she took in Jon’s beloved face staring down into hers, a knowing overcame her, as if she'd been asleep all her life, or lost in a fog and had only just awakened, there in that moment with him. As if she could see clearly now for the first time and knew love as she had never known before. The beauty of it, the lovely soul-deep ache of having your heart belong to another, kept safe within their ribs while you sheltered theirs just the same.

__

It was hunger and thirst, a constant need that could drown, but also a light, a hope, an anchor, fixed and firm.

__

Tears fell, there was no holding them behind her walls anymore. Those laid in a discarded heap, taken down, brick by brick, by a pair of tender eyes, dark and depthless, and the man behind them. His humble, devoted heart, his unending honor, and his adoring nature, all leaving her open and raw.

__

He froze above her, then was cupping her face, hand, and fingers gentled across her damp cheek. “No, my sweet lass. Tell me I didn't hurt ya.” She shook her head, tucking her face into his chest and pulled him closer. “You sure?” he asked again, voice laced with worry. Another wave of tears took her, pained at upsetting him, but having no ability to stop them. So she nodded, kissing the scar over his heart and held him tighter still.

__

Words wouldn't come, she didn't know if she could explain even if they had, but he didn't push for any, just clutched her close. “I've got ya. We're alright. Everythin’s gonna be alright, I promise ya, Dany.”

__

She nodded again and buried herself deeper in his chest. Eventually, he rolled to his back, taking her with him, pulling the quilt over them. His hands stroked her skin as he kept his cheek pressed to the top of her head and soon the sudden storm had passed.

__

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, wiping away the last of the tears.

__

He rolled them over, his brow drawn up, those eyes of his searching her soul as they so often did. “Just tell me you're alright. Let me help if I can,” he asked, his voice soft as he cupped her face, his thumb running across her cheekbone.

__

She reached up and tucked some of his inky curls behind his ear then pulled him down and kissed his sweet lips. “I'm okay now,” she whispered, “I think I just got… I don't know really.” He would think her some silly girl.

__

“Was it today? Did somethin’ else hap–”

__

“No,” she hurried to assure him, shaking her head and running the backs of her fingers over his cheek. “I promise nothing else happened. The last two days have been a lot, and I am worried. About you, Rickon, your whole family. Myself too, I suppose. And maybe that had something to do with it, but mostly I think…” She fingered another of his curls before meeting his eyes. “It was you.”

__

He looked horrified. “ _Me?_ You said I didn't hurt you.”

__

“Shhhh, you didn't, I promise, that isn't what I meant.”

__

“Dany, tell me what's goin’ on, _please_.”

__

She couldn't handle his fretting, not when she could ease it. “You love me,” she whispered, having to bite her lip and close her eyes to keep another surge of tears at bay.

__

He huffed, an incredulous sound, and held her face. “A’ course I do. Why would that–”

__

She looked up at him again, smiling now, her heart swelling. _Of course, he did_. “No one’s ever loved me like you do, Jon. Unconditionally, with their whole heart, putting me first. I thought that was only something made up in stories until you.”

__

He scowled. “Your husband didn't?” She shook her head. “Your family?”

__

“No. They loved me in their own way, but...I was more of a pawn to be used.”

__

“Your father really had you marry a man just to gain his services?” She nodded, watching the lantern light flicker on the beams above them. “Was he…your husband, was he at least good to ya?”

__

“After a fashion.”

__

“What's that mean?”

__

“Drogo and his people, they’re gypsies. They sell their daughters and buy their wives. Women are seen as possessions, things they own. We have value, are something they are sometimes proud of, but a possession all the same.” He entwined their fingers together, the scowl that settled on his face let her know that it was as much for her as him. “I was fifteen when we met for the first time, sixteen when we married. He was thirty. There was no love to be found on our wedding night, or for quite sometime after. Even towards the end…” She trailed off, allowing her meaning to wash over them both. She could see by the flash of anger in his eyes that he knew what she meant without having to say the word. She stroked across his scruffy jaw, the bristly hairs tickling her fingers. “It never felt like this, not for me, and certainly not for him.”

__

He tilted his head into her stroking but remained quiet for some time. His dark eyes took her in, his brow softening as they continued to touch each other, giving comfort and taking it at the same time. His fingers slid through her hair, his thumb running over her temple. Then he pulled her close, tucking her face into the hollow of his neck, his other arm sliding beneath her back. There was nothing he could say, so he did what he could, held her tight, letting her know she was safe and loved.

__

“It wasn't like this for Ygritte and me either,” he said as he laid her back down, his voice soft, gruff, and his words hurt her for him. “I thought it was real, but I can't say that now.” He scoffed. “She’d scare me sometimes. Kept waitin’ for her to stick me with a knife or shoot me full a’ holes just cause I’d pissed her off.”

__

She smiled softly, relieved she’d been so blessed to find him, as broken and battered as her, the one man who could restore her faith in humanity. She stroked her thumb over his plump bottom lip as her eyes met his. “I’ve never felt fear when I’m with you. I know in my heart you’d never hurt me like he did. I can trust you. Know you’d never–”

__

He kissed her, pressing his sweet mouth to hers, before looking at her again, such ardent devotion in his beautiful eyes it stole her breath. “I won't, not ever. You’ll always be safe with me. No one’ll ever hurt you again. I swear it.”

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Summary of events: Ramsay and Locke appear at the school and Dany immediately sends the children inside with a warning to Myrcella not to open the door for anyone but her. Locke and Ramsay threaten to rape her and let her class watch. Ramsay kills the lizard inside their class project with the children all watching from the windows. He threatens her with a knife as Locke holds her still. But she has enough when they threaten to hurt her again, in front of the students, and she breaks Locke's nose with her elbow and is about to retrieve her knife to use on Ramsay as he grabs her around the throat, but Davos shows up because Myrcella sent HotPie to the Sheriff's office. Ramsay and Locke leave with a threat being laid at her feet from Ramsay._
> 
>  
> 
> I just want to say that there is more to the Lannister's animosity with the Starks than just Margaery. All will eventually be revealed. Also, Dany is a fighter and isn't going to go down without a fight, especially when her students are being threatened. 
> 
> And because I know you'll ask, Jaime is not Joffrey's father and Cersei is not Myrcella and Tommen's mother. Jaime is a widow and their mother doesn't actually matter for this story.


	14. One Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery bonds with her family, chosen and biological.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the love and support on the last few chapters. We know they were hard to read and that everyone needs a breather. Here's you a nice little space for you to take a deep breath.
> 
> The mood board was made by justwanderneverlost.
> 
> Thank you to meisie for the beta job on this. We hope you like it as much as we do!

**MARGAERY**

 

_This is the sound of one voice_  
_One spirit, one voice_  
_The sound of one who makes a choice_  
_This is the sound of one voice_  
_This is the sound of one voice_  
  
_This is the sound of voices two_  
_The sound of me singing with you_  
_Helping each other to make it through_  
_This is the sound of voices two_  
_This is the sound of voices two_  
  
_This is the sound of voices three_  
_Singing together in harmony_  
_Surrendering to the mystery_  
_This is the sound of voices three_  
_This is the sound of voices three_  
  
_This is the sound of all of us_  
_Singing with love and the will to trust_  
_Leave the rest behind it will turn to dust_  
_This is the sound of all of us_  
_This is the sound of all of us_  
  
_This is the sound of one voice_  
_One people, one voice_  
_A song for every one of us_  
_This is the sound of one voice_  
_This is the sound of one voice_  
  
_One Voice_  
**The Wailin’ Jennys**

 

 

She woke, finding the bed empty as usual, but the cacophony from the kitchen had her wondering what was going on. Before getting up, she reached for the box of saltines at her bedside and had two. She gave them a few moments to settle then slowly sat up, still feeling nausea but not the need to run and purge herself. She washed her face, ready at any moment to sprint from the room, but thankfully, it didn’t come to that. Once dressed, leaving her shoes behind, she headed to the kitchen finding Rickon and Bran seated at the table eating breakfast with Arya. Dany was standing at the sink washing dishes.

 

“Mornin’,” Rickon said cheerfully. 

 

Smiling, she walked over and kissed his curly head. “Good morning, sweet boy.” It was good to see him in better spirits. 

 

Dany walked over to her, a teacup on a saucer in her hand, her eyes shining with sympathy. “Give this a try before breakfast,” she offered. She was truly beautiful and seemed to have a soul to match. It was no wonder Jon was so smitten with her. 

 

Peppermint wafted from the steaming cup as Dany handed it to her and Margaery hummed, knowing relief was coming. She took it from her gratefully and sipped at it as well as inhaling deeply. The soothing scent heaven to her sensitive body.

 

Arya stood and ruffled Rickon’s hair. “I’m headin’ to bed. Robb says we’re doin’ a run tonight,” she said as she gave a wave. Dany watched her go and Margaery took her empty seat. 

 

“Miss Dany made us breakfast,” Rickon announced.

 

“I see that. Did you tell her thank you?” she asked, smiling at him again, his bright eyes shining back at her happily as he nodded. She hoped nothing happened to ruin his good mood today. 

 

“I appreciate you taking care of them,” she told Dany. “I'm sorry too. I’m not much good in the mornings.”

 

“Nonsense,” Dany scoffed, glancing over her shoulder at them. “You're growing a baby, there's not much better than that. I'm happy to help.”

 

“Well, thank you all the same. How did you sleep?” she asked her.

 

“I slept in Jon’s bed,” Rickon offered.

 

Bran rolled his eyes. “Stop talkin’ with your mouth full.”

 

“I suppose Rickon’s answer tells you all it needs to,” Dany chuckled.

 

Margaery nodded and ran a hand over his curly head. “It does.”

 

Everyone stopped moving as a car pulled up outside. Margaery joined Dany at the kitchen window and sighed in relief. “It’s my grandmother.”

 

Dany’s shoulders sagged beside her. She glanced at Rickon and caught the look of fear in his eyes despite who their visitor was. Dany must have as well, she walked over and rubbed his back. 

 

Margaery walked to the screen door and opened it, letting her grandmother inside. “Hello, dear,” Olenna greeted her as she placed a kiss on her cheek. She stopped at seeing Dany, her head tilted in confusion. “And you are?”

 

“Grandmother, this is Dany Storm. She’s Rickon’s teacher.”

 

“Teachers make house calls, now?”

 

“Nah, she’s Jon girl,” Rickon said, shoveling another bite of eggs into his mouth, his feet kicking beneath the table.

 

She could see the wheels spinning in her grandmother’s head and wondered if Dany would be offended by what was bound to be an offensive comment, or take it in stride. “Ah, yes, you’re the one he blackened Ramsay’s face over. Not that he didn’t deserve it. Has for years,” Olenna said as she took a seat at the kitchen table. “Where are you from?”

 

“Boston,” Dany answered with a smile. 

 

“Dany, this is my grandmother–”

 

“Olenna Tyrell,” Dany said. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, as well.”

 

Olenna grunted. “I’m sure most of it was true. I am curious, though, what gossip there is roaming around about me. So, let’s have it,” she said with a wave of her hand.

 

Dany licked her lips, working to hide her smile. “Wealthy, thinks she’s better than everyone, and some even call you the Queen of Thorns.”

 

Olenna nodded. “All accurate. And I do so like that nickname. I wish I could have people introduce me that way.” 

 

Margaery snorted into her tea.

 

Rickon looked at Dany and Margaery. “I’m finished.”

 

Dany nodded. “Put your plate in the sink and you can go play,” she said softly. 

 

They all went quiet as both boys took care of their plates then went their separate ways, Rickon running outside and Bran going to his room. 

 

“I heard you had a dustup at the school yesterday,” Olenna said as she leveled her eyes at Dany. 

 

Dany nodded, something dark flashing in her bright blue eyes. “Ramsay and his idiot lackey, Locke. Tormented the children by harassing me,” she answered. 

 

“You don’t seem phased,” Olenna said approvingly.

 

Margaery looked at her. Dany shook her head and smoothed her hands over her dress. “There’s no sense in dwelling on it. It happened. I’m sure they’ll try something else. Especially since Jon and Gendry put them both in the dirt at the social. But maybe Locke will think twice before he does anything else since I’m pretty certain I felt his nose break when I elbowed him.”

 

Olenna gave her a smile. “Glad you can handle yourself. You might want to carry a weapon.”

 

Her mouth set into a grim line. “Had Sheriff Davos not shown up when he did, Ramsay would’ve felt the sharp end of my knife. They’re children playing at being dangerous. I’ve known truly dangerous men.”

 

“Have you?” Margaery asked, an eyebrow raised in question. “How so?”

 

“Boston is crawling with gangsters. You can’t always depend on other men to protect you. Sometimes, you have to take matters into your own hands.”

 

Olenna’s cane thumped against the floor. “I like this girl,” she announced to the room then eyed Dany shrewdly. “Is Jon Snow good enough for you? I have a grandson who is unmarried and almost as pretty.”

 

Margaery snorted but worried Dany would be upset. She smiled though, her pretty eyes turning soft just at the mention of him. “Jon is wonderful. I’m lucky to have met him.”

 

“And you don’t care what people say about him, or about the two of you together?”

 

That dark glint flashed again but disappeared just as quickly as it came. “Tongues will wag, Mrs. Tyrell. Doesn’t mean their opinions matter,” she said with a shrug. “I know the man he is. How he came into the world means less than nothing to me. And why should I care what a bunch of people I don’t know think of me? Life would be boring if I gave into their expectations.”

 

Olenna looked at Margaery, a smile on her face. “Yes indeed, I like this girl. Reminds me of you,” she said with a wink. “Beautiful, stubborn, and unencumbered by her reputation amongst the sheep.” She turned back to Dany. “Would you like some advice from an old woman?” Dany nodded, obviously finding a kinship with her grandmother. “Women endure much more than men in life. Starts when we’re on the cusp on womanhood and God shows us more blood than some men ever see in their entire lifetimes. We’re told to be meek, unassuming, cater to a man’s whims because we’re here to serve them. Hogwash. Women endure because we must, but we thrive through it. Ignore the little people who would tell you your choices are wrong. You have to live your life. Not them. So, do what makes you happy. If all of this with Margaery has taught me anything it’s that money and power doesn’t mean you come from good breeding. It simply means you have the ability to cover up the bad.”

 

Margaery reached out and touched her grandmother’s hand, swallowing down the lump that had risen in her throat. “Thank you.”

 

Olenna gave her a small smile then turned her eyes to Dany. “So, what are you running from in Boston that brought you here?” 

 

“Grandmother,” Margaery scolded but waited to see if Dany would answer, quite curious herself. 

 

Dany’s smile was careful. “You’ll have to forgive me for not answering honestly on our  _ first  _ meeting.”

 

Olenna smirked. “Does your family know you're here?”

 

Dany took a sip of her tea and placed it back on the table. She put her hands in her lap, straightening her spine as she did so and clearing her throat. “I no longer have a family. Both my brothers were killed in the war. My mother and father passed away three years ago.”

 

“Oh Dany, I'm so sorry,” Margaery said. Dany gave her a weak smile in response.

 

“You’re not married? Running from an abusive husband?” Olenna asked with a knowing glance at Margaery who rolled her eyes. 

 

“My husband died too. As did the child I was carrying,” she whispered. 

 

Olenna frowned and shook her head. “My dear, you seem to have made a friend of death.”

 

“We’re certainly well acquainted,” she said. “I try not to think about it too much. If I look back, I’m lost.”

 

“Indeed,” Olenna said softly. “I’m sorry you had to endure such tragedies, Miss Storm.”

 

She gave Olenna a smile. “Thank you.”

 

“She’s helped me with a few of my pregnancy symptoms already,” Margaery offered, wanting to move the conversation along for Dany’s sake.

 

“Making fast friends? Good. Unite against those boys and get them in line.”

 

Margaery chuckled. “I like Robb the way he is.”

 

“I wouldn’t change Jon, either,” Dany agreed.

 

“Not even that wild hair of his?”

 

She grinned, quite slyly. “Absolutely not. It’s one of his best features.”

 

“Enjoying it, are you?” Olenna asked with a wink.

 

Margaery understood the insinuation and by the feral look that crossed Dany’s face, she understood it, too. “Very much, just not often enough for my liking.”

 

Olenna chuckled. “Yes, I can see you and Margaery will be great friends.” Margaery gave her a smile. “Now, dear, I wish you would reconsider having your wedding at the church. Expecting me to climb down into the woods to watch you marry is ridiculous on the face of it.”

 

Dany stood and tied an apron around her waist as Margaery sighed. They'd been having the same argument since her grandmother found out Robb had proposed. “It’s where we want to have it. There’s a path for you to walk down and I know Papa would do anything to keep you from falling.”

 

“That’s not the point. You should get married in the church.”

 

Margaery huffed. “I’ve already had once church wedding. I’m not doing another.”

 

“Miss Storm, did you get married in a church?” Olenna asked.

 

Dany’s eyes were wide as she turned to look at them. She shook her head. “No, I was married at my husband’s family home.”

 

“How old were you?”

 

She took a deep breath and Margaery could tell by her lowered eyes and fidgeting hands that it was a hard thing for her to talk about. “Sixteen.”

 

Margaery had snuck her first kiss with Robb at that age. She couldn’t imagine being married that young.

 

“And your husband?” Olenna asked, the accusation in it easy to hear. She had been married when she was very young, which is why she hadn’t pressed the issue of Margaery getting married as early as some of the other girls in town. 

 

“Thirty.”

 

Olenna scoffed. “Old enough to be your father.”

 

Dany frowned. “I hated him at first. He was a rough man, treated me as an object rather than a person. But you spend enough time with someone...it doesn’t work out for everyone. But I was trapped. I didn’t know anything else. And I think, by the time he died, I had affection for him even though he still scared me.”

 

Margaery stood, going to Dany and taking her hand. “Our stories do seem rather similar.”

 

“Unfortunately,” she answered with a sad smile. “Which is why I knew when I heard you left there must’ve been a reason. I didn’t believe the gossip that you used him for his money. That didn’t make sense,” she said and squeezed Margaery’s hand. “And I told Jon if you needed _ anything _ I wanted to help. At the time, he was still denying you were here, but I offered. If I could save someone else who was in a similar situation to what I endured, I wanted to.”

 

Olenna took a deep breath. “Fast friends, indeed.”

 

*~*

 

The three of them were still in the kitchen when Robb came in, Olenna seated at the table, Margaery peeling apples and Dany working on the pie crust. Dany and Rickon had gone out earlier and picked a big basket full of the old apple tree near the barn. “Ladies,” he greeted with a tip of his hat. “Smells amazing in here.” He reached to pluck a slice of apple from the bowl on the table. 

 

Olenna slapped his hand though he managed to sneak a piece anyway. “Robb Stark, not everyone wants to taste the dirt on your hands.”

 

“I only touched the one,” he assured. “You look lovely as ever.”

 

She scoffed. “Don’t think you can twinkle those blue eyes at me, Stark. I’m not my granddaughter.”

 

He smirked and looked up at Dany. “Jon woulda come himself but Bronn is workin’ with him and Gendry on makin’ the still easier to take apart. So, he sent me to check on you.”

 

“Arya said they were doing a run tonight,” Margaery said, keeping Dany from replying though she was smiling, her eyes focused out the window and toward the barn.

 

“That’s the plan. Though Gendry’s near dead on his feet. Said he’d get Arya to drive some if he couldn’t stay awake.”

 

Margaery frowned. “I don’t like it,” she said softly. “It’s too risky so close to Joffrey and his goons coming up here. Not to mention what happened to Dany yesterday.”

 

Robb's frown was just as deep as hers, full of guilt as well. “I know. But we need the money for Bran’s check-up next week,” he said softly, his hand on her hip. “I don’t know how Jon got his medicine,” he whispered, “but I don’t think we can ask for any more help from whoever it was and you know how much we both hate acceptin’ charity.”

 

The rolling pin suddenly thumped hard against the counter drawing their attention. Dany was already crossing the porch, the screen door slamming shut behind her. Margaery watched wide-eyed from the window as she stalked toward the barn. “What in the world was that about, I wonder?”

 

Olenna snorted. “I think you just found out how Jon got the medicine.”

 

She and Robb looked at each other then out the window again. He laughed when Gendry and Bronn came hurrying out of the barn a moment later. Gendry took himself home, while Bronn headed toward the house and onto the porch. 

 

“That is one angry little woman,” he said, coming inside.

 

“What was she sayin’?” Robb asked.

 

“Well, she started with, ‘Jon Snow, I’m gonna hurt you!’ Then pointed to me and Gendry and told us to leave. Being the smart people we are, we took it to mean right then. Heard her say, ‘I told you if you needed help with medicine or anything for Bran to ask me’. Then there was somethin’ from him about how it’s his responsibility.”

 

Robb looked at her, his brow twisted. “That makes sense,” he said softly. “Why Jon was actin’ so strange when I asked where he got the money.”

 

“Sounds to me like she might have forced it on him,” Olenna said. “So much drama. Who needs theater when I can simply drive up here for the day?”

 

Robb rolled his eyes and placed a kiss on Margaery’s nose. “You smell amazin’ too. Like peppermint and cinnamon.”

 

“Peppermint is from my tea and the cinnamon is from the pie in the oven.”

 

Bronn smiled. “I do love pie.”

 

Robb was watching out the window again when he chuckled, Margaery turned to look as well. Dany was walking back to the house with Jon, his arm around her shoulders, his other holding her hand. She was leaning into him, her arm around his waist and a small smile on her pretty face as he said something in her ear. “Looks like they’ve made up.”

 

“He didn’t have to grovel very long,” Olenna replied.

 

Margaery laughed. “No, he didn’t.”

 

The screen door opened and Jon stopped at seeing everyone staring at them while Dany went back to the pastry on the counteracting as if she never left. “Come on,” he said finally, waving a hand at Robb. “We’re almost done.”

 

“Jon, I would advise you not to send Robb to do something for you, again,” Olenna offered. 

 

He scowled at his brother. “I shoulda known you were the reason for that.”

 

Robb opened his mouth to protest as all the women in the room looked at him, their eyebrows raised. He grumbled and left the kitchen, Jon and Bronn following after him. 

 

“Dany, dear, I believe you could’ve had him groveling for longer,” Olenna said.

 

She turned to face them both and winked. “This is only the  _ start _ of his groveling, I assure you.”

 

“Well done, my dear.”

 

She turned back to the pie crust as Margaery retook her seat. “That was very nice of you. Paying for Bran’s medicine. Thank you.”

 

Dany shrugged. “I would have done the same for my brother,” she said softly. She laid the crust into the pie tin and heaved a deep breath. “Jon didn’t give me a lot of details...but Bran and his chair? They really did that?”

 

“Unfortunately,” Olenna answered. 

 

She nodded but remained quiet as Margaery once again spoke to her grandmother about her plans for the wedding. 

 

Margaery was tired of the church wedding and non-white dress talk. Olenna obviously sensed this as she turned her attention to Dany. “How would you do it again, assuming your first didn’t scare you from the prospect altogether?”

 

Dany shrugged. “I never thought about getting married again. It wasn’t...my plans didn’t involve a man at all.”

 

“Right, but I’m sure you’ve thought of it since your involvement with Jon.”

 

Dany avoided the question for a moment, opening the oven and removing the first pie and sitting it on the open window sill to cool. Margaery had wondered about the status of Dany and Jon’s relationship quite a bit. She knew they spent as much time together as they could, stealing nights and weekends. It was obvious Jon was madly in love with her, whether or not he’d told her yet. It seemed the same for Dany as well.

 

“Never for too long,” she finally admitted, leaning against the counter. “Not the wedding part anyway. I’d rather have a good marriage with a kind man than worry about a lavish ceremony for the wedding.”

 

Margaery liked that idea and looked at her grandmother who had a slight smile on her face. She stood and handed the bowl of apples to Dany as she went to the stove and dropped butter into a pot to melt it. “I like your idea as well. A good marriage to a good man.”

 

“Then in a church, or not, doesn’t matter,” Olenna said, trying to sway the argument to get what she wanted. 

 

Margaery shook her head. “Try all you want, but I’m getting married in front of that tree, down that hill, and you can come if you want,” she said, her temper finally flaring. She stirred the contents of the pot as Dany added cinnamon to the mixture. 

 

“I relent,” Olenna said with a huff. 

 

She and Dany exchanged hidden smiles, going on with their cooking. Margaery knew if her grandmother was backing off now it was only so she could get what she wanted at a later date. So clever, her grandmother. It was too bad for Olenna she’d raised her. She knew all her tricks.

 

*~*

 

They'd finished lunch, everyone eating but Arya, and she had seen her grandmother off shortly after. The kitchen was clean once more, but it was time to start on supper. As she went to gather up the snap peas and potatoes Margaery noticed Dany standing at the screen door with a dreamy smile on her face, her head tilted to the side. She piled snap peas into a bag then put them into a bowl. When she turned to get another one for the potatoes she found Dany still standing in the same place, the same entranced look on her face. 

 

“What in the world has you smiling like that?”

 

Dany looked up, her smile turning to a wicked grin. “Come have a look.”

 

Margaery walked over where she stood, her eyes following where Dany was pointing. Near the edge of the yard were Jon and Robb, each with an axe in hand, hard at work chopping firewood. She’d heard the steady thumps for awhile she suddenly realized but had given the noise no thought as busy as she'd been. 

 

The brothers were talking and laughing, lost in their work. Margaery, however, was quickly lost in the rippling of muscles in Robb’s arms and back as he split piece after piece. She knew how cold it could get up on the mountain, knew it would come to them first. They’d need all they had cut and then some to last them through the winter. While it might not be pleasant work for Robb and Jon, it was certainly more enjoyable for her, and Dany apparently, than watching them sit around the still.

 

Both men had lost their shirts, only their suspenders still on, dark bands cutting through their pale skin, as they chopped away unaware they had an audience. She tilted her head as well, the familiar stirring for her lover filling her, watching him and his power, his skin sheened with sweat.

 

“Do you think they’re at all aware they have the same effect on us that we have on them?” Dany asked, a wistful tone slowing her words. 

 

Margaery glanced at her, wondering if she still looked as enamored with Robb as Dany did with Jon at the moment. While Jon had never triggered any feelings within her, physical or emotional, other than platonic affection, she couldn't deny he was an attractive man. The pair of brothers made for quite the sight. She and Dany were blessed ladies.

 

“None,” she finally answered with a chuckle. “Lucky us.”

 

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Rickon’s voice sounded behind them and both women jumped in surprise. So enthralled with their view they had obviously missed him coming in from the back porch. 

 

With flushed cheeks, Dany moved away from the door as Margaery turned to Rickon. “How did you get so dirty?” she asked, noting the dirt on his hands, face, knees, and even all over his clothes.

 

“I was playin’ with Shaggydog in the dirt,” he admitted. 

 

She turned him around. “I want you to go wash your hands and face and change into clean clothes before supper.”

 

“Aw, but I was gonna play some more!”

 

“Rickon,” she admonished. “Now.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbled as he walked to the bathroom. 

 

When she turned around, she found Dany holding the bowl with the peas and another piled with potatoes and a knife. “I think these activities are best done on the porch, given that it’s such a lovely day outside. Don’t you agree?”

 

Margaery chuckled and nodded, taking the potatoes. “Oh, absolutely. It is such a  _ lovely _ day.”

  
  


*~*

 

The fading afternoon sunlight made the Stark land glow a hundred shades of yellow and orange. The front porch faced North which meant they got a good deal of it all day. She and Dany were sitting in the rockers soaking it up in the cool fall air as they worked on the vegetables for supper. 

 

Jon and Robb had finished cutting the pile of wood, stacking it beside the house. Both men had come to the porch after and placed a kiss on their respective partner’s lips. Margaery playfully pushed Robb away as he rubbed his sweaty face against her neck. They eventually left, after draining a few glasses of water each, grabbing their shirts and donning them again, and went back to the barn, much to Dany and Margaery’s dismay. 

 

She caught sight of Arya and Gendry's front door opening and watched as her future sister in law stepped out letting the door close gently behind her. She jumped off her porch and walked toward them. 

 

“You and Arya don’t get along?” Dany asked looking over at her.

 

She thought the groan had been in her head, but apparently, she’d let it slip out. She sighed. “Not exactly. She didn’t really care for me before because Sansa and I were good friends and how could she like me if I was friends with Sansa? And the hurt I caused Robb when I married Joffrey... She’s hostile, at best. Don’t worry, you’ll see.”

 

Dany frowned as she went back to snapping peas and Margaery continued to cut up potatoes. She gave Arya a smile when she took the steps to stand near them. “There’s some apple pie if you’re hungry,” Dany offered.

 

Arya shook her head. “Just ate. Left the house to let Gendry get a little sleep. Where’s Rickon?”

 

Margaery smiled. “The last I saw of him he had fallen asleep against Shaggydog on his bed.”

 

“He’s had a rough couple of days,” Dany sighed. “Crawled in bed with us the last two nights crying”

 

Arya leaned against the post, her expression one of concern. “Sleep’s been hard on all a’ us, I reckon.” Her arms were folded over her chest as she kept her eyes on her own house. 

 

“Everything alright?” Margaery asked.

 

“Fine. Worried ‘bout Gendry’s all. He should have come in hours ago,” she said softly.

 

Dany smiled. “You are a rather interesting subject, Arya Waters.”

 

Margaery and Arya both turned to look at her. “How so?” Arya asked.

 

Dany shrugged. “The night of the social, you stood over Locke with your gun in his face. Jon is convinced you’d kill someone for looking at you sideways. But you’re mush when it comes to Gendry.”

 

Margaery smiled, finding that to be an accurate description. Deadly to everyone, but cuddly as a lamb in all matters relating to Gendry. 

 

“I am not.” Her voice was a little too loud, causing Dany and Margaery to share a secret look. They knew all about being weak where their significant others were concerned. She turned her blushing face away from the two of them and stared at her house. “He drives me crazy most of the time!”

 

Dany smirked. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

 

Margaery chuckled as Arya rolled her eyes. “Alright, so I love him. He’s my husband. Shouldn’t I?”

 

Dany nodded. “Of course. It’s simply an interesting dynamic to witness. I am curious, though. How long did you know him before you decided you were going to marry him?”

 

Margaery watched amused as Arya shuffled her feet, shifting her weight from one to the other. “The second I laid eyes on him,” she admitted. She sighed and sat on the top step, facing them. “He came walkin’ up this mountain with his bag thrown over his shoulder, wearin’ his undershirt and suspenders. He was all sweaty.” Margaery noted the far-off look in her eye as a sweet smile bloomed across her face, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “Told me his name and announced that he was a friend of Jon’s from the war. You know how I always seem to have something to say?” Both women nodded. “I didn’t, then. Jon offered to let him stay here after he told us his Ma died, and instead of stayin’ in the house, insisted on staying in the barn and helping out. I learned quickly he had a habit of workin’ on things without his shirt on. Once I got over my initial shock and immediate attraction, I started pickin’ at him so he’d talk to me. He didn’t treat me like I was a little girl, which only made me more attracted to him,” she finished, exasperation in her voice. 

 

Margaery had witnessed on more than one occasion Arya making him food, of them laughing together, and how both seemed to find little ways of touching each other without drawing too much attention to it. Robb had mentioned a few times that he thought Arya might have a crush on Gendry, but she’d been convinced that Arya wasn’t the type to get crushes.

 

“I’ve heard how you got married, but I don’t think I heard how you initially got together,” Dany said as she continued to snap peas.

 

Arya shrugged. “Jon was too busy mopin’, Robb was always sneakin’ off,” she said with a pointed look at Margaery, “and Sansa was wrapped up in herself, as usual. I needed somebody to talk to and Gendry listened. Regularly called me a pain in the ass, pretended to eat my cookin’, and I just liked bein’ around him as much as I was attracted to him.”

 

“Why not tell Jon or Robb? Why the secrecy?”

 

She looked down at her shoes and frowned. “Mostly cause I was afraid they’d make me stop bein’ near em or make em leave. I was already in love with him ‘fore I kissed him.”

 

Margaery smiled. “I thought you were probably the one that initiated things.”

 

“You were right. Congratulations,” she said. Her tone was flat and Margaery saw Dany’s back tense in response. “But he was bein’ aggravatin’ ‘cause he wouldn’t do nothin’ but kiss me cause he didn’t want to disrespect Jon. This went on for almost a whole month, kissin’ behind the barn, in the woods, in his truck on our way to and from town. He was so frustratin’,” she groaned. “So, when he asked me to marry him, I said yes and told him  _ I  _ would talk to my brothers.” She huffed out a breath. “I produced the money for the marriage license and told him that Robb and Jon were helpin’ with Bran and couldn’t come, but they sent their blessin’ and we got married.”

 

“And Gendry and Jon were both furious when you revealed what you did?” Dany asked. “Not Robb?”

 

“Robb was kinda mad but was willin’ to listen to me. He  _ knew  _ from the look on Gendry’s face that I’d done it all.” She twisted the hem of her dress around her finger and heaved a sigh. “Jon and Robb I expected to be mad but I _ knew _ I could get them to calm down. Gendry bein’ mad sent me for a loop. Thought he’d just be happy we were married.”

 

“He was not,” Margaery supplied.

 

“I was afraid he would break it off, mad as he was,” she said, her voice gone soft, and not for the first time, Margaery felt for the predicament Arya had put herself in. 

 

She gave her a small smile. “I’m glad you convinced him otherwise.”

 

Arya sighed and shrugged. “He’s stuck with me forever.” She shifted around, and looked at Dany, eyes narrowed, obviously ready to turn the focus away from herself. Margaery almost felt guilty at the relief that washed over her. Dany was the one in the crosshairs this time, not her. “Ya know, Jon’s crazy for you.”

 

The serene smile that danced over Dany’s face caused Margaery to smile. She was right, Dany was just as taken with Jon as he was her. “Well, seems fair since I’m crazy about him,” Dany answered.

 

“You gonna get married?” 

 

Margaery reached out quickly to catch the bowl before it hit the ground as Dany had nearly upended it at Arya’s question. She got settled once more even as she looked at the wooden planks of the porch. Margaery didn’t think it was an unfair question. In fact, she thought it was probably something that would be discussed eventually between Jon and Dany. Leave it to Arya to jump outside of social normalcy and ask.

 

Dany shrugged and went back to snapping peas. “I don’t know.”

 

“Why not?”

 

She looked at Arya, face a picture of calm, seemingly unafraid of the smaller woman. “Because I don’t. I haven’t talked to Jon about it, I haven’t thought about it, really, and we haven’t known one another all that long.” 

 

She fired off the responses in quick succession and Margaery shared a look with Arya who turned back to Dany. “I knew Gendry four months,” she said. “It’s kind of hard for me to remember life ‘fore him, though.”

 

Margaery nodded. “It’s hard to remember a time when you weren’t together. I remember when they were building your house...Jon was unhappy during most of that time.”

 

Arya chuckled. “That’s cause his room was next to ours. He was mad cause he could hear us sometimes.”

 

Margaery started laughing, then nearly doubled over with it. Both women stared at her as she wiped away joyful tears. 

 

“What the hell has you laughin’ like that?” Arya questioned.

 

“Is that why he used to sleep on the couch?”

 

Arya’s cheeks turned pink and she shrugged. “Yeah. He was always meaner to Gendry the next day, too.”

 

Margaery was still chuckling and shaking her head. “It all makes so much sense, now.”

 

“Not my fault the walls are thin,” Arya huffed.

 

Dany nodded. “Jon warned me about that. I’m sure we could make them thicker and better insulated.”

 

Arya rolled her eyes. “Good luck with that. Jon and Robb are protective of the house and don’t like it mentioned that it’s anything less than perfect.” She heaved a sigh and stood. “That stubborn bull,” she grumbled as she began walking across to her house where Gendry was standing on the porch. They heard her fussing at him, but her words couldn’t be made out. He took both of her hands and pulled her inside. Arya didn’t protest, just followed him in.

 

Dany chuckled. “Well, that was interesting to witness.”

 

“Gendry has a way of making her mush, as you said. The only other person I’ve ever seen her reach for their praise is Jon.”

 

She looked over at Margaery. “Really?”

 

She gave a nod before she dropped the last piece of potato into the bowl. “You done?” Dany nodded and they both stood, walking into the house and begin supper. “Jon hasn’t talked a lot about his family?”

 

“Oh, he does,” she answered with a smile. “The boys, Arya, you and Robb. I admit I was nervous to meet Robb and wanted to get it over with. Jon values his opinion so much it made me anxious. He loves all of you dearly. It doesn't seem he was really close with Sansa...but I can tell he cares for her like his sister.”

 

Margaery frowned and took a deep breath. “Well, some of that was Sansa’s fault. You know, their mother didn’t want Jon to live with them. She felt like he was a burden, an extra mouth to feed, another body to clothe. He's only a few months younger than Robb, so she had two babies to care for pretty much on her own. She resented it. Never knew a time when she didn't let him know it too.” She shook her head, sadness and a bit of guilt filling her. Jon never deserved Catelyn's cold treatment. “Some of that rubbed off on Sansa. When she didn’t get something she wanted, her mother would whisper under her breath about the extra mouth they had to feed, which they all knew was Jon. She grew up having a grudge against him.”

 

Dany wrinkled her nose. “Making me less keen on Sansa,” she muttered.

 

She put a hand on Dany’s arm. “She realizes how wrong she was now. It’s because of Jon she met her husband. When she got married, she asked Jon to give her away,” she said with a smile. “The war helped to change her mind because she realized she didn’t want him to die. When the notice came that he was injured she cried and cried, confessed to me how much she regretted the way she’d treated him. She told him so when he came back and it went a long way to mend things.”

 

“That’s good to know. What about Arya? She doesn’t care for Sansa?”

 

“They’re sisters that shared a room. Arya was always happier dirty, playing with the boys, being treated like one of them. Sansa was delicate, ladylike, and the apple of her mother’s eye. So, Arya dislikes Sansa for that just like Sansa did her. But I think, once Cat was sick, they sort of got over it and stopped fighting with one another so much because they were sharing the load. And then Bran...tragedy can either bring you closer together or push you apart. They chose the former.”

 

Dany sighed and shook her head. “That’s good, but I’m glad I only had brothers.”

 

Margaery chuckled. “Me, too. You had two?”

 

She nodded, biting her lip. Margaery didn’t know how she had survived losing her whole family. She knew she’d be lost. But Dany didn’t seem to linger too long on whatever dark thoughts plagued her as she asked, “How many for you?”

 

“Three. Garlan, Willas, and Loras. Loras and I grew up really close. He was the first one to figure out that I was madly in love with Robb. He covered for me, kept my secrets. He was in school with us so he spent a lot of time with Jon and Robb himself. He taught me to shoot.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Still can't believe Robb and Bronn assumed I couldn’t do.”

 

Dany smiled and flushed. “My brother, Rhaegar, or Rhae as I called him, taught me behind my mother’s back. I let Jon think I couldn’t then showed him I could. He was  _ enthusiastic _ about the realization.”

 

Margaery chuckled. “I’ll bet.”

 

They were both quiet for a moment and then Dany asked, “Why do you want to get married in the woods?”

 

“What?”

 

“Your grandmother keeps saying she wants you to get married in a church but you put your foot down about the spot in the woods. Why there? Why _ not _ a church? Not that I’m saying you  _ need _ to pick a church, just picking your brain.” 

 

Dany’s easy smile let Margaery know that there was no judgment from her. She really liked Dany, saw how she was not only good for Jon but good for this family as well. The boys certainly loved her, Robb and Gendry were thankful to see the positive change she brought out in Jon, and even Arya seemed open to her. And Margaery didn’t mind confiding in her, found it came easily as if they’d been friends for an age already. It was lovely to have another woman around and she truly hoped Dany would officially become a member of the family one day.

 

Stirring the potatoes as they came to a boil, she answered her, “One reason is this is a wedding I _want_ to happen and I want some say in it. But the biggest reason is that it’s _our_ spot. There’s a swing tied into the tree where Robb used to push me. It’s where we kissed the first time. Where we did _something_ _else_ the first time.” She gave her a knowing look and Dany smiled at her. “A lot of significant milestones of our relationship have happened there. And it’s private and beautiful and the perfect place for our wedding.”

 

They were both silent for a few minutes, then Dany gave her a sweet smile, a comforting hand on her arm. “I’m glad you’re getting your way.”

 

Margaery chuckled. “Thanks.”

 

*~*

 

She looked at the long table, covered in food and plates, and smiled. Once again she had enlisted Bronn and Robb’s help to use the longer table so there were enough places for everyone to sit. Dany had helped her set the table and put all the food out then went outside as Bronn brought in one of the rocking chairs. With the bench and the assorted chairs that were still usable around the house, they’d managed to find a seat for everyone.

 

Her family's voices rose to a racket as they all came wandering in. Margaery removed her apron, ready to join them, then realized someone was missing. She hadn’t woken Rickon up from his nap. She went to his room, but it was empty. It wasn't hard to guess where he’d be. Sure enough, she found him curled around a pillow in Jon’s room. 

 

She walked to him slowly and stroked over his hair. “Little man, nap’s over,” she said as she tickled her nails down his back. 

 

He rolled over and rubbed his eyes, giving her a sleepy smile as he sat up. “I dreamed that I had wings and I could fly.”

 

She smiled in return. “That sounds like a marvelous dream.” He nodded, perking up at the rumble of voices coming from the kitchen. “Everyone’s waiting for us to join them for supper.”

 

“Food!” he exclaimed as he rushed out of the room and into the bathroom to wash his hands and then ran into the kitchen where a seat was open beside Jon. 

 

Arya looked at him then, a cheeky smile on her face. “It’s hard being a six-year-old, ain’t it?”

 

Rickon nodded and waited for the food to be put on his plate. Jon served him, then Dany, even though she insisted she was capable of serving herself. Margaery sat beside Robb, Bronn on her other. “This looks delicious, ladies,” he complimented.

 

Margaery gave him a brief smile as everyone filled their plates. Robb put a hand on her knee and placed a kiss on her cheek. She turned and gave him a bright smile, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. 

 

“You two realize other people are seated at this table and don’t want to witness this lovey stuff, right?” Bronn’s voice muttered beside her, breaking her away from the look of adoration on Robb’s face.

 

She narrowed her eyes as she turned her head to glare at him. “I can choose not to feed you. Or follow through with my original threat and fill up the feeding troth beside the barn.”

 

Robb laughed and placed a kiss on her shoulder before tucking into his food. The conversation around the table grew lively, Arya filling everyone in on their various and sundry drops planned that evening. Melisandre being the most interesting. The strange woman lived in the woods alone, some people even suspected she was a witch. Gendry insisted that she was probably doing more than drinking moonshine. 

 

She could see Gendry was tired. Dark circles sat beneath his crystal blue eyes and his shoulders were slouched more than usual. She hoped Arya did most of the driving that evening. She’d scold Robb properly once they were alone for doing that to him, especially if they expected him to go on a run, which could be a dangerous endeavor. 

 

She stood and made a pot of coffee as everyone else ate. When it was done, she passed a cup to Gendry who gave her an appreciative smile. Arya gave her a slight nod. When she sat down once more, Robb placed a kiss on her cheek, the rest of the family lost in food and conversation.

 

*~*

 

She stood on the porch, doing her best not to laugh as she watched Dany practically drag Jon behind her and into the barn. The boys were both bathed and in bed, the kitchen clean. It was time for the adults to unwind from their busy days. 

 

She was waiting for Robb. He and Bronn still at the table talking over coffee. She pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders, the crisp air having grown a biting edge once night had fallen. Robb finally walked out the door and looped his arms around her shoulders, shivering against her. “Cold already. Won’t be long and it’ll be snowin’.” Her head fell back to rest against his shoulder and soon his lips were against her ear. “What d’you think a’ Dany?”

 

She smiled, pulling his arms tighter around her. “She’s lovely. I had a wonderful day getting to know her.”

 

“Jon’s head over heels for her,” he responded, then chucked. “Could hardly keep him focused.”

 

“If it makes you feel better, she’s in love with him, too.”

 

“They sneak off?”

 

She nodded. “And took our normal place during the cold.”

 

“Damn,” he groaned. “What’re we gonna do? Too cold for our spot and I have a hankerin’ to hear you scream my name,” he whispered against her ear.

 

She turned in his arms and linked hers around his neck. “Well, we need to satisfy that  _ hankerin’ _ of yours.” She looked around. “Arya and Gendry’s house is empty...”

 

“You want me to have sex in the same bed my sister and brother in law do? No,” he said with a shake of his head and a grimace. His eyes settled on something and his smile widened. “What about the car?”

 

She looked over at it and smiled. “Might be tight quarters.”

 

He shrugged. “I’m game if you are.”

 

She took his hand in hers and led him off the porch and down to the car. Once they’d climbed in he moved it farther away from the house, into the woods and killed the engine. She turned on the seat and pulled him on top of her. “Come along, Robb Stark. I believe you wanted to hear me scream.”

 

She giggled as he rubbed the rough of his beard against her neck and tickled her side. Space was cramped though, leaving them with very little room. He finally sat up and removed her drawers and shoved his pants around his knees as he helped her straddle him. Once he was inside her she forgot about the cramped confines of the car, especially once he got her dress unbuttoned and her nipple into his mouth. Though she only tolerated that for a moment before she pulled away from him sharply. Her breasts felt achy and sore, the weight of his hands and mouth on her painful. She stopped moving as he stared up at her, a frown on his face. “Do you wanna stop?”

 

Her heart swelled as she looked down at him, his eyes full of concern. She loved him so much it took her breath away. She leaned her head against his and kissed him. “No,” she whispered as she rocked her hips against his. “Don’t stop.” Taking his hands she slid them beneath her skirt. She kissed him, gasping against his lips as his fingers traced over her skin, causing gooseflesh to rise on her thighs. She gripped his hair in her fist as she rolled over him. The touch of his thumb against her folds told her she was close, but the bite of his lips against hers, the feel of his fingers digging into her hip, and the thrust of his hips against hers pushed her over the edge. 

 

She trembled in his arms as he buried his face against her breast and his arms wrapped around her. Her thighs quivered as she held herself over him. His chuckle against her caused her to raise her head and look at him. “What?”

 

“I wondered when we were walkin’ out here why we never used the car.”

 

She laughed and stroked her fingers through his hair. “Tight quarters,” she mumbled.

 

He nodded. “I feel like I let ya down. Promised to make ya scream.”

 

She pressed her lips against his. “I’m not disappointed. Quite happy, actually,” she hummed. “And tired.”

 

She pulled her dress back on then climbed from his lap and snatched her drawers from the floor. Robb opened the door and held his hand out to her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

 

She put her hand in his and allowed him to lead her back to the house. 

 

*~*

 

She thought he was asleep, but the feel of his fingers moving over her hip had her roll to her side and face him. “What do you think of Dany?” she asked. “You didn't say earlier.”

 

“She makes Jon happy. I’ve never seen anyone make him happy, not like she does,” he said softly. “She’s hiding somethin’ though. Don’t know what, but I can feel it.”

 

“Everyone has a past,” she said softly. “Just happens that our past is with one another.”

 

“Ya know somethin’.” He heaved a sigh. “I won’t ask ya to betray her trust, but just tell me if it’ll hurt Jon.”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t know everything. But what I  _ do know _ won’t hurt him. I also think he probably knows what I don’t.”

 

He nodded. “It’s just nice to see him happy. Actually laughin’.”

 

She snuggled into his arms. “It is, I’ve never seen him this way, I like it.”

 

“Me too,” he chuckled. “Cause he ain’t ever been like this. Ygritte was nasty to him a lot.”

 

“You know my feelings about her. I’d rather not speak ill of the dead.”

 

He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Alright. How did things with your grandmother go?”

 

“She’s finally agreed to stop with the church wedding.”

 

He nodded. “Good. Besides, if we can get Bran down the hill in his chair, we can get her down there.”

 

She heaved a sigh. “It’s gonna be done our way, Robb.”

 

“Ya know, darlin, I don’t care what happens so long as when it’s all over you’re my wife and I’m your husband.”

 

She smiled, remembering Dany’s words from earlier. “Rather a good marriage than a big wedding.”

 

He pulled her closer, nuzzling into her neck. “Exactly. All that matters is that we’re together.”

 

Margaery hummed and closed her eyes. “Forever, Robb Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know what you think. We hope you enjoyed that chapter.


	15. You Don't Know How Lovely You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry and Arya do their run and find their list of allies growing and also get a warning of danger to come from the town nutjob. But tempers flare when someone makes too much of an advance and problems get solved in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for all the support. You guys are simply wonderful and we're so thankful to have such faithful readers. 
> 
> The gorgeous mood board for this chapter was made by justwanderingneverlost. She does such a fantastic job that with every one she makes inspires me to try to write up to that level. 
> 
> The song chosen for the chapter really was the song playing in the background as I wrote. We love writing this fic together and the story that we're telling. I can't tell you how much it means to me knowing that I have someone as talented as JW in my corner making the words I write better. She's the reason that this fic is on the level that it is. I give full credit to her. 
> 
> To Meisie who betaed this chapter for us, we are so PLEASED that you like the Arya/Gendry chapters because they aren't your OTP. It always brings a smile to my face when we get the comment that you are enjoying what you're reading. We couldn't do this without your support, so thank you very much!
> 
> And to our Tarts - the glorious ladies that we get the pleasure of chatting with almost on a daily basis (FrostBitePanda, Sparkles59, Meisie, Jaqtkd, and NoOrdinaryLines - and I'm going to include JW in this because I'm writing it and she can't stop me). I've heard said on numerous occasions that no more than three women can be friends at a time. You ladies have taken that saying and shot it to hell. I feel your love and support each and every day. I never have to guess if you have my back. I hope you never have to guess that I have yours. You are some of the most lovely, intelligent, and sometimes, unintentionally hilarious people I have the pleasure to know. I am so very happy that I can call each of you my friend. Your talent is only eclipsed by your hearts and I love each and every one of you!

 

__ Come up to meet you   
Tell you I'm sorry   
You don't know how lovely you are   
I had to find you   
Tell you I need you   
Tell you I set you apart   
  


__ Tell me your secrets   
And ask me your questions   
Oh let's go back to the start   
Running in circles, coming up tails   
Heads on a science apart   
  


__ Nobody said it was easy   
It's such a shame for us to part   
Nobody said it was easy   
No one ever said it would be this hard   
Oh take me back to the start   
  


__ I was just guessing at numbers and figures   
Pulling your puzzles apart   
Questions of science, science and progress   
Do not speak as loud as my heart   
  


__ Tell me you love me   
Come back and haunt me   
Oh and I rush to the start   
Running in circles, chasing our tails   
Coming back as we are   
  


__ Nobody said it was easy   
Oh it's such a shame for us to part   
Nobody said it was easy   
No one ever said it would be so hard   
I'm going back to the start

 

_ The Scientist  
**Coldplay** _

 

**GENDRY**

 

He and Arya waited along with the men in the kitchen for Rickon to fall asleep. Dany and Margaery’s sweet melodious voices were drifting from his room but soon faded. Both women joined them a few moments later. He didn’t know what this was about, he just knew Jon had asked them to wait before they left for the night. Bronn got up and offered his chair to the ladies, Dany insisted Margaery take it. 

 

Once Margaery was seated at the table with Robb he took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. Arya shifted and leaned against his side. Bronn joined them against the counter.

 

Jon had moved closer to Dany and gave her a small nod. “Jon and I’ve discussed it and there are some things about me that all of you need to know,” Dany started. She licked her lips and Gendry felt worry settle into his bones. “I am from Boston and the reason I’m in this town is not happenstance. My family was murdered. And the man behind it lives in Winter’s Peak. Tywin Lannister ordered my family killed. My father, mother, and husband, all on the same night. I was on his list as well, but I was with a friend. However, that trauma, the stress, caused me to have a miscarriage.”

 

The room filled with uncomfortable shifting and clearing throats, all of them no doubt at as much of a loss as Gendry for what to say or do in light of Dany's tragic story.

 

Bronn held up a hand. “I’m sorry you had to lose so many in such a way, but I have to ask, why your family?”

 

She wrung her hands in front of her and heaved a sigh. “Aerys Targaryen, my father, was the number one crime boss in the state of Massachusetts. Nothing happened without his approval. I'm sure you know Tywin has been setting up high ranking political officials in other cities?” Bronn and Robb both nodded, even Gendry knew that Tywin was working on something. None of them knew what or why. “He made the mistake of thinking he could do that in Boston without my father’s approval. You did not cross a Targaryen.” She looked at each of them and drew in a deep breath. “My father and my husband thwarted Tywin’s attempt. Made him look like a fool. And he promised retribution and he kept his promise.”

 

Arya tensed beside him as he watched Jon run a hand over Dany’s back, she leaned into him a bit but continued her tale. “I faked my death. Let everyone think that he killed all of us. But I’ve been waiting three years for the opportunity to present itself, and I took it.”

 

“What was the opportunity?” Robb asked.

 

“Your school teacher was old enough that retirement seemed viable. I and my friends simply offered her some money to be able to move to the coast with her sister.” She fidgeted a moment, then seemed to scold herself, crossing her arms over her chest. “The thing I believe you need to know is that I haven’t been sitting idly by the last three years. I know how Tywin’s organization works. I’ve sussed out those political figures in each state that are in his pocket. Even your own mayor belongs to him.” She looked at Jon. “But if Tywin falls, it all falls.”

 

Robb shook his head. “You’ll never get close enough.”

 

She gave him a small smile. “I will. I haven’t survived all this time not to finish my goal. I’m telling all of you this because I want you to know, that with a single word from me, an army could essentially descend upon this town.” She looked at Margaery. “When I told you I had known truly dangerous men, I had. My family. My husband. His people...the things they’ve done to get and hold power makes the things done here look like amateurs.”

 

“Professional killers at our disposal?” Bronn asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. “That’s rather handy to have.”

 

Arya was frowning beside him, then she stepped forward, fists clenching at her sides. He didn't try to stop her, even if he knew what was about to come out of her mouth. He wanted the answer as well. “Did you go after Jon cause of our animosity with the Lannisters?” she asked, not bothering to hide her temper.

 

Dany shook her head emphatically. “No, absolutely not,” she swore. “I had only been in town a few days, and most of that was getting my household settled. The only reason I came up here was because I don’t like snakes and I didn’t want to find another one in my desk. Jon was...” she looked at him and smiled and Gendry pulled Arya back beside him, tightening an arm around her. Dany loved Jon. It almost felt like something tangible you could touch, as they stared at one another.

 

He felt a swell within his chest to see Jon so content. He remembered that rainy day when the mail had come, Jon sitting on his cot then rushing out of the tent. He’d found him near the side of the barrack, on his knees in the muck and mud, soaked through. It had taken ten minutes for Jon to be able to form the words ‘Ygritte died’. Another ten was spent trying to get his heartbroken friend back inside. 

 

The day Jon was hit by shrapnel, he’d begged Gendry to leave him and let him die. It hadn’t even been an option for Gendry. With his commanding officer screaming in his ear, he picked Jon up over his shoulder and ran to the medics tent. He waited outside as they worked. It felt like days before someone came out to tell him Jon was alive. He seemed unhappy with Gendry, that he hadn’t left him, but Jon was his only friend and he told him so. Admitted that it might be selfish what he did, but he had no desire to write back to his family and tell them he was gone and he’d allowed it. 

 

Now, standing in the kitchen, his friend looked rather happy with being alive. He’d found a woman who loved him and one he seemed to love equally as much. It made him happy. He kissed Arya on top of her head and she looked up at him in question, but he simply smiled down at her.

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you all, but I didn't want to drag anyone into this that didn't need to be, and I needed to know if I could trust you first,” Dany admitted.

 

Everyone had gone quiet. Gendry looked around at them. He heaved a sigh. “I’m not a Stark, but if Jon trusts you, that’s all I need. He’s never steered me wrong before,” he said with a smile at his friend who nodded back at him, a grateful smile on his face.

 

Arya shrugged. “I’m with Gendry. Jon trusts you. But my threat to you is the same as the one I made to Margaery. If you hurt my brother, no one will ever find your body hidden on this mountain.” While Jon rolled his eyes, Dany gave her a nod. She looked less afraid of Arya than most people did. “The rest of you can figure out how you feel about it. Gendry and I need to get goin’.”

 

They were waved off as Bronn ushered Dany to sit at the table to discuss what she knew that could be of some use.

 

*~*

 

Arya leaned against the truck as Mace reached down to pet Nymeria. The wolf liked him and Gendry took that as a good sign. If Nymeria liked someone, usually Arya came around. Though Nymeria liked Margaery and it hadn’t done much in the way of improving her opinion there.

 

“How is Margaery?” he asked finally. 

 

Gendry gave him a smile. “She’s good. Got the house in fine order even after what happened.”

 

“She’s an excellent shot. Might want to get her a gun to keep on her,” he offered. “Does she need anything? Any of you need anything?”

 

“No sir,” Gendry answered. “Scared the little ones, but it’s all starting to fall back into place.”

 

Mace gave a nod. “I believe my mother will be up there for another visit to work on the wedding plans. Let us know if she needs anything. If...any of you need anything. Until then, I’ve had these made for you. I’m sure you get hungry driving around all night.”

 

Gendry took the bag and peeked inside, smiling to see two sandwiches. He handed the bag to his wife. Arya gave him a nod and climbed into the truck, Nymeria behind her. 

 

“She doesn’t like me, does she?”

 

Gendry smiled. “Don’t take it personal. She don’t like many people,” he said and extended his hand to the older man. Mace shook it and gave them a wave as they pulled out.

 

He was back on the main road, Arya silent beside him as they headed back towards town. He pulled in at the gas station, his dim headlights revealing Edd standing out near the pump. Edd, and his two brothers, Grenn, and Pip owned the local station. Crow Bros they called it. One of them was always around to fill up their tank, and all they had to do was give them a case of the shine in return. It was a nice trade. They never had to worry about paying for fuel.

 

Edd got the pump running as Grenn came out of the station and leaned against the window. “Heard that Joffrey cunt visited y’alls house. Y'all alright?”

 

Arya nodded. “Shook up the little ones. Tore the house up. Pissed the rest of us off.”

 

“Heard they hit Jon in the face with a shotgun.”

 

Gendry nodded. “Eye is pretty fucked up.”

 

Edd shook his head. “You lot decide to go to war with them Lannister bastards we got ya back. Bout time someone fought em off good.”

 

“Only one worth a damn is Tyrion,” Grenn added.

 

Edd shrugged. “The older boy...Jaime? He’s a good tipper.”

 

“Joffrey’s a cunt,” Arya offered.

 

Grenn smirked. “Yes, ma’am he is. We’ll be lettin’ ya get to it.”

 

Gendry watched Edd grab a case out of the back and the brothers waved as he drove off down the road.

 

*~*

 

Tyrion was in his normal spot, but there was no book in his hand. Instead, there was relief on his face and a rigid posture to his spine as they climbed out of the truck.

 

“Please tell me everyone is alright?” he asked the moment they did.

 

Gendry grabbed his two cases while Arya walked to Tyrion. His position on him was beginning to truly waver, being he was the one that initially warned them something was coming.

 

“Jon took the butt of a shotgun to the eye, little ones were...terrified, they destroyed half the house, but as a whole we’re alright,” Arya told him.

 

“Will Jon be alright?”

 

She nodded. 

 

Tyrion’s shoulders sagged and he took a heavy seat on the bench. “You know this will only get worse, don’t you? Your brothers are aware that Joffrey isn’t going to let this go. He won't stop until he's gotten the revenge he wants.”

 

“I think we're all aware things’ll escalate. Ya know ‘bout Ramsay and the school, right?” she asked.

 

Tyrion tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “No. What happened at the school?”

 

“Ramsay and Locke showed up. Assaulted Dany, threatened to rape her. Davos got there to stop em ‘fore they could hurt her, but the youngins saw it all. They were pretty upset. Especially Rickon. That cunt Ramsay killed the lizard he’d found for the class that mornin’.”

 

Tyrion’s fists clenched at his side. “Myrcella and Tommen attend that school...” he shook his head. “I’ll speak to my brother.”

 

Gendry heaved a sigh. “I think what we all need to realize is no matter what, Ramsay’s gonna do what he wants. Joffrey can probably be controlled by your Pa. Ramsay is...”

 

“Fucking insane,” Tyrion supplied. “Still. Jaime has some sway with my father and we  _ know  _ he has sway over Roose.”

 

“Can’t get Joffrey to back off?” he asked, even knowing it was a false hope.

 

Tyrion scoffed at that. “Family honor and all that shit. I’m sure some girl will come along and distract Joffrey eventually. Once that happens, I hope he’ll leave your family alone.”

 

“No guarantees,” Gendry said aloud, interpreting what he hadn’t said. “Thanks for the warning though. Gave us a chance to form a plan.”

 

He gave him a weak smile, passing his payment to Arya. “Wish I could do more. You two be careful. Please.”

 

He gave Nymeria a bit of bacon and Gendry closed the door behind Arya before taking his own seat in the truck. He gave Tyrion a wave before he sped off down the drive.

 

“You comin’ ‘round to Tyrion?”

 

He shrugged and glanced at his wife. “I appreciate someone who helps me protect my family.” She took his hand in hers, a smile pulling at her mouth. “That make you happy?”

 

She nodded. “It does. I don’t know why, but yeah. It makes me happy.”

 

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Then I’ve done my job as your husband.”

 

She chuckled. “Just remember that you have  _ other _ ways of makin’ me happy, too.”

 

He laughed and put one more kiss on her hand. “Those are my favorite.”

 

*~*

 

Melisandre was the strangest woman in three counties. She lived in a creepy little shack deep in the middle of the woods. No matter the hour, it always seemed darker there, the air heavier and sweet with rot. Full of something unnatural. It was always warmer, too, as if a fire burned beneath the thick bed of decaying leaves. One night he and Arya had happened upon her while she was dancing around a bonfire naked. He still laughed remembering how Arya had covered his eyes while he tried to keep driving.

 

She was standing in front of a bonfire again, but there was no dancing this time, and she was covered in a large shawl. Her brilliant red hair was pulled back from her face, the fire giving her milk-white skin a peculiar glow.

 

“Let’s not linger too long. She makes me uncomfortable,” he said before they both got out.

 

He placed the case on her porch as Arya slowly approached her like she would a rabid animal. “Mel?” 

 

The woman’s blue eyes turned on her. Arya froze. 

“Arya Waters,” she said softly, her low smooth voice eerie in the dark with only the fire illuminating her. It made Gendry’s hair stand on end. He thought about grabbing Arya, putting her in the truck and leaving without the money. “Your family was traumatized recently.”

 

Arya folded her arms over her chest and Gendry walked closer. “Word gets ‘round town pretty fast.”

 

The strange woman shook her head, slowly turning her gaze back to the fire. “I haven’t been to town,” she replied. “The flames told me.”

 

Arya glanced at him over her shoulder and he moved a few steps closer. “Right. We need the money for your case a’ ‘shine.”

 

He was right behind Arya now and Melisandre’s blue eyes darted over, focusing on him. His blood ran cold. “You won’t always be able to protect her.”

 

“I don’t really need someone to protect me,” Arya snapped, her feathers ruffled at the insinuation.

 

A shiver ran through him as Melisandre’s eerie gaze studied his wife, her dark brow furrowed. “We all think that until we do.”

 

Arya huffed out a breath and held out her hand. “Money, Mel.”

 

Melisandre seemed to snap out of the daze she was in and reached inside her slip and handed over the cash. She turned back to the fire. “Watch yourselves, for the night is dark and full of terrors.”

 

Her quiet warning sent a chill down Gendry's spine. He quickly ushered Arya back into the truck and was speeding away from her and her scary place soon after. “Every fuckin’ time! I’m not deliverin’ to her at night no more.”

 

Arya chuckled. “Why? Because it’s  _ dark and full of terrors _ ,” she trilled, voice low and fingers wiggling.

 

“Shut up,” he snarled swatting at her hands as she poked at him.

 

*~*

 

“Your family alright?” 

 

The case was taken out of his hands and tucked beneath the beefy arm of Sandor. Arya heaved a sigh and nodded. “The boys were shaken up and Jon got a black eye.”

 

“My brother there?” he asked, his already deep voice having taken on a menacing tone.

 

“Yeah. Threw Bran out a’ his wheelchair,” Gendry told him.

 

He turned his eyes to Arya and frowned. “What’d I tell ya? If ya–”

 

“Yeah, I remember,” Arya cut over him. “I don’t know how you coulda helped. Hell, you bein’ there mighta made things worse. But if we managed to get out of it with only one black eye I think we did alright.”

 

He shook his head. “Girl, don’t be stupid. You made it through one. There’ll be others. And they’ll escalate every time cause they want ya to do somethin’ fuckin’ stupid.”

 

“And what would you a’ done? Shot the deputy? It was the county sheriff that came.”

 

He heaved a sigh. “You let them brothers a’ yours know that I’m willin’ ta help. Loads a’ people in town are too.”

 

Arya nodded. “I’ll tell them.”

 

They climbed back into the truck and Gendry pulled onto the now familiar road toward the brothel. The closer they got the more he could feel Arya tense beside him. He put a hand on her knee and she leaned her head against his shoulder. 

 

“Last stop,” he said as they pulled through the ivy-covered gate. 

 

“I’m glad cause I don’t know how much more I can tolerate talkin’ ‘bout what happened. I hate feelin’ helpless, and I keep seein’ what they did to Bran, Rickon, and then Jon...it makes my blood boil.”

 

Gendry drew in a deep breath, upset she felt what happened to her wasn’t equally terrible. Meryn Trant was lucky he still had hands after she told him what had happened. As much as Jon and Robb trusted him to keep her in check, her presence beside him was the only reason he hadn’t driven his truck down the mountain and taken an axe with him. 

 

“We’ll just be careful,” he said softly. “That’s all we can do at this point.”

 

She nodded. “I know.”

 

He pulled the truck in front of the house and Arya let out a harsh sigh. “You can stay in if you want.”

 

She glared at him. “Not a chance.”

 

He chuckled and kissed her. “Then let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

 

She gave him a weak smile and opened her door. He was at the back tailgate reaching for the crate with the moonshine in it when the slam of the screen door echoed across the yard. “Look, girls, it’s Gendry and his mongrel.”

 

He heaved a sigh, wishing Ros wouldn’t bait Arya like that. As he stood up straight a hand landed on his backside giving a firm squeeze. The yelp that followed sent him from around the truck to where Arya had Ros pinned against it, her switchblade at the other woman’s throat. He snatched Arya around the waist and grabbed her knife. 

 

Ros wiped frantically at her neck, eyes wide as dinner plates as she looked at her hands making sure she wasn’t bleeding. 

 

“Stop,” he whispered in Arya’s ear as she fought against his hold.

 

“Are you crazy!?” Ros screamed.

 

“I’ve warned you!” Arya snarled, still struggling in his arms. Ros looked on in horror as several of the other girls moved in to watch things unfold. “Keep your hands off my man, or I’ll cut em off!”

 

“Arya,” he said in her ear again. “Stop.”

 

*~*

 

**ARYA**

 

She finally stopped struggling against Gendry’s hold and he let her go, but he didn’t give her knife back. Her vision had swum red when Ros put her hands on Gendry like that. 

 

“It was a joke, you crazy bitch!”

 

She vaguely heard Gendry growl in her ear, but the next thing he said to her gave her pause. “Call Nymeria off.”

 

The wolf was backing Ros up, her teeth bared, hunched toward the ground as if she was going to pounce. “Nymeria,” she called and the wolf relented, circling around her and Gendry before waiting beside the truck, gleaming eyes still focused on Ros.

 

Her breathing was still labored as Gendry moved away from her, putting the two cases on the porch then holding out his hand to Ros. “Joke or not, you took a fuckin’ risk you shouldn’t of. Now pay us and we'll leave.”

 

Ros slapped the money into his hand, keeping a wary eye on her. He opened the door for Arya, but her blood was still humming with the need to hurt Ros. He cleared his throat. She finally relented and climbed into the cab of the truck, Nymeria beside her. She dug her fingers into her soft fur and as Gendry sped off down the road, she leaned over and hugged the wolf. 

 

*~*

 

The ride back home had been quiet, neither of them ready to talk about it. They stopped at the main house and let Bronn, Robb, and Jon ride the tailgate to the barn. She climbed from the truck and watched as they unloaded the empty crates. 

 

“No problems?” Robb asked.

 

“No,” Gendry answered, quickly. “Normal run.” She was sure he’d rat her out to her brothers, but he didn’t. As angry as she was, that formed a little crack in the wall she’d been constructing internally to withstand the battery she knew was coming.

 

Robb furrowed his brow and looked at Arya for confirmation. She nodded. “Nothin’ but some crazy talk from Melisandre.”

 

“Everyone knows what happened up here, though. We’ve got some allies if we need em,” Gendry added.

 

Robb frowned. “I hope we don’t need em. Margaery and Dany were workin’ on breakfast. Y'all go get somethin’ then get to sleep.”

 

Arya shook her head. “I’m tired. I’ll skip breakfast,” she said as she stomped off to their house. She didn’t check to see if Gendry was following her. The truth was, she hoped he wasn’t because she needed time to process what had happened. 

 

Ros had made moves on him since they’d been hauling the stuff, solely to piss Arya off. She knew part of her reaction was how bad she was itching for a fight. Ever since the Lannisters came to their home and put her family at their mercy, she’d felt like there was an itch under her skin she couldn’t scratch. The other part was how brazen Ros had been to put her hands on  _ her _ husband in such a way. Right in front of her too. She had her knife in her hand before she even knew she was moving. 

 

Once she got home, she opened the windows and went about making coffee, needing a distraction from the overwhelming emotions that were bubbling within her. She had to admit part of her had relished in the fear in Ros’ eyes, the terror in her scream. It had done more to make her feel better than anything else had. She wondered if that made her sick. Did it make Gendry sick?

 

She poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. Gendry walked into the house and tossed his hat onto the kitchen table. He ran a hand along his neck, and she could see the stress and exhaustion settled in his muscles and on his face.

 

He walked over to her and took the cup from her fingers, taking a sip before handing it back. “We gonna talk about how you nearly carved up Ros?”

 

She looked at the floor. “No. Nothin’ to talk about.”

 

He drew in a deep breath. “This has been boilin’ away for months and we need to get this out.” He turned away, walked a few steps, then turned on her, his blue eyes sparking. “I ain’t ever been interested in Ros.  _ Ever _ . She didn’t do nothin’ different than she’s done before. And I’m sorry Arya, but I'm insulted you think I’d  _ ever _ do that to you.”

 

She dropped the cup into the sink, sending a loud clatter through the kitchen, and folded her arms over her chest. “It’s not you I have a problem with!” she snarled, meeting his glare head on. “It’s her.”

 

“She’s baitin’ you cause you’re lettin’ her!”

 

She flung her arms out, scowling at him. “So, what should I do? Huh? Stand by and let her put her hands on you? Stay quiet while she makes digs at me and how I’m not enough woman for you?”

 

“Her words don’t mean anything!” he snapped.

 

Her fingers pounded into her chest. “Maybe they do to me!” 

 

The house went deathly quiet, even the bugs had stopped hollering at them through the windows. She hated fighting with him, hated how she felt even more. She fell back against the sink, chewing on her thumbnail and staring at the floorboards. He walked over, his steps slow, then leaned against the counter beside her, letting his arm press into hers. He didn't say anything, just waited, for her to explain she guessed. 

 

She didn't look at him, couldn't, but decided to try and make him understand. “I don’t like how she makes me feel. I hate it, in fact. I don’t like lookin’ at her an seein’ what I lack,” she whispered. “I don’t like feelin’ like I’m less of a woman even though I could carve her like a turkey.” Her hand had found its way to her chest, rubbing at the annoying ache beneath her sternum. “There’s this part inside me that I hate to acknowledge that feels like I’m not good enough when I look at her. So when she touched you… All that stuff with the Lannisters... My blood was already boilin’. I couldn’t control it this time.”

 

Gendry took her hand in his and shook his head, giving a quiet huff. “It’s funny you say that. I feel the same when we’re ‘round Oberyn,” he said softly. “He made you blush. I can count on one hand all the times I’ve seen you blush.”

 

She turned into him then, stepping between his legs, laying against his chest and pressing her lips to his neck. “When we first met, when I would turn away from talkin’ to you, I was sure my head was gonna burst into flames at any moment. I felt like my face was always on fire.”

 

Gendry chuffed into her hair. “I couldn’t tell.”

 

She wrapped her arms around him, gripping his shirt in her hands. “I love you,” she whispered. “I don’t want you lookin’ at me an wishin’ you had somethin’ more. And...you gotta know what my family means to me, how mad it drove me to watch em get hurt and have no power to stop it...”

 

He breathed deep and the pain eased in her chest, feeling his lips against her hair while his fingers danced down the line of buttons along her back. “I love you, too. It’s you I want, Arya. Only you,” he whispered. “I wish there was some way to make you see that.” He was silent for a moment then in a gruff voice, full of conviction, he said, “You know there was nothing you could have done. They would’ve shot ya. Possibly killed all of ya. Tell me ya know that.”

 

“Part of me knows it. The other part, the part that hates feeling helpless...is havin’ a hard time acceptin’ it.” She lifted her head and his blue eyes stared back at her. “As for you and me, I know you love me. I’ve never doubted that. It’s the  _ wantin’ _ part I don’t understand sometimes.”

 

His hands dropped to her waist and then his fingers began gathering up her skirt. “Reckon I’m not doing a good job showin’ you,” he said against her temple. 

 

She smiled as she ran a hand through his dark hair. “If that’s a line, it’s a good one.”

 

Gendry backed her up into their kitchen table, then squatted down, pushing her drawers to the floor as he went. He helped her step out of them, a hand on her calf to keep her steady. His fingers skimmed along her thighs as he stood, and his mouth found hers. She couldn’t stop her groan, his lips and tongue and teeth drawing it out of her as he tasted her skin from mouth to neck. “Lose the dress,” he murmured against her pulse and she pulled it over her head. She leaned against the edge of the table in naught but her camisole and shoes. With one arm around her waist, he lifted her onto it. His lips moved over her throat and a moan slipped free as his fingers found her folds, tracing over them.

 

He left a trail of wet kisses along her neck to her satin covered breasts. She leaned into his hungry mouth as he took one of the covered peaks between his teeth. She moaned and wiggled against his fingers, trying to get more than just the light touch he was teasing her with. He stepped back and tore her camisole over her head, heaving a deep breath as his blue eyes roved over her. “How could ya possibly think I could ever look at ya and not want ya?”

 

She brought his mouth back to her and wrapped her legs around his waist only for him to step away from her again, pulling her to the edge of the table. He grabbed one of the chairs and sat down between her thighs. He sat there, looking at her, his clear blue eyes moving along the skin of her inner thighs, stopping at her cunt. He brushed his thumb over her wet folds once before dropping his hands back to his lap. His eyes continued to travel up along her body and Arya felt her skin grow hot and flushed from her chest, to her cheeks, to her ears. Her nipples hardened painfully under his gaze and suddenly his eyes met hers, bright with his longing for her. An involuntary shiver ran through her.

 

“Gendry,” she finally said, though she knew some would swear it sounded like a purr. She was a wolf, not a kitten, and wolves did not purr. “Touch me,” she demanded.

 

He licked his lips and his hand reached down to catch her ankle. Her eyes narrowed at him, but his thumb rubbed along the bone and then higher to her calf. She shivered as his fingers slid across the back of her knee, but the true torture was the gentle slide of them to the top of her thigh, lifting to a featherlight tease as they drifted along her inner thigh. She moved forward a bit, making sure she had his full attention and would get what she wanted eventually.

 

He leaned in close, trailing his lips, first, then his tongue, over the same path his fingers had taken. She bit her bottom lip and shifted on the table, sliding her hand along the back of his head. 

 

He pulled away. “Hands on the table or I’ll stop.”

 

She did as he ordered, secretly thrilled at the command. She gripped the edge of the table as he leaned forward once more and pressed his lips to her belly, his hands pushing her to lie back. He lifted one of her thighs and draped it over his shoulder, her foot resting on the back of the chair. Then he placed the other on the table, opening her wide. His hot breath was a brand against her skin. She could smell her own arousal. 

 

At the first touch of his tongue, she moaned his name. It was torture to feel him licking and sucking at her cunt and not be allowed to touch him. He knew she loved to run her fingers through his hair, bunch it in her grip when she got to the edge, urge him in closer. But he didn’t need her guidance. He knew how to bring her to the brink. Just as she was on the cusp, he pulled away and kissed her thigh. He was tormenting her, which she both loved and hated. She wanted him inside her, hard and demanding.

 

“Gendry.” She heard the begging in her tone and hated herself for it. But then the chair scraped across the floor and his mouth was back, hands moving over her ribs to cup her breasts. The pinching of his fingers at her nipples sent her further, ever closer. She was at the edge again, almost ready to collapse over it. He pulled away again. She writhed on the table in agony. He’d never prolonged her to such an extent. 

 

He stood, and not only had he lost his shirt, leaving his bare chest to her viewing, but his pants were lowered, his cock standing at attention, heavy and taut from the patch of dark curls between his thighs. “No more games,” he said as he brought both of her feet over his shoulders and slowly slid inside her. Her toes curled as he filled her inch by delicious inch until there was nowhere left for him to go. He slid almost all the way out and she whimpered, not wanting to feel empty again, but full of the man who loved her. Rough hands slid along her thighs, knees, and shins. He placed a kiss on her ankle.

 

“Faster.” She didn’t know if she was asking or telling. Either way, he didn’t give her what she wanted. Instead, he dropped both of her legs to the side and stilled completely, leaning his body down to cover hers. His lips trailed along her throat as her cunt clenched around him, receiving a growl in response. “Gendry...”

 

“No,” he denied her, his face hovering over hers. “I’m not giving you what you want.” He licked his lips. “Not yet. We’ve got hours with nothing to do but fuck.”

 

“You need sleep,” she argued.

 

He shook his head and leaned down, kissing her. It was desperate, hungry, almost angry. She wasn’t going to beg, she would never beg, but the torment of his body against her, inside her, was a fine line she feared she couldn't walk much longer. She was close to taking matters into her own hands. He’d said ‘No more games’ but he was playing one right now. “I need you to understand that you’re my woman, my wife. I only want you. Your lips, your tits, your hips, your cunt, your heart. Just yours,” he said, making quick shallow thrusts inside her again. 

 

Her hips rose for him, her head thrown back. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, shivering as his tongue licked along her throat then took her mouth in another soul-rending kiss. Her husband was trying to undo her, and he was succeeding. She pulled away from his mouth, shaking with need. He pressed their foreheads together, his breath mingling with hers and when she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her. It was almost too intimate, too intense. But she wouldn’t be the first to look away. She wouldn’t show him her fear, that it was all still a lie. She was so close, again, but if she said anything, moaned too long or loud, she knew he wouldn’t let her come. 

 

Gendry slid his hands beneath her, lifting her from the table and into his arms as he sat back in the chair. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. When he broke the kiss, she took a deep breath, leaning her head against his lips as she rolled her hips around. He didn’t stop her but took the opportunity to run his hands along her skin. She felt his fingertips in the sweat forming along the back of her neck. She clenched around him and he groaned, dropping his head back and squeezing her ass in response. She leaned forward and licked along his neck. 

 

She stiffened at his thumb against her clit, gripping the back of the chair, her nails scoring the wood. He built her closer and closer, her muttering his name over and over again. She was almost afraid he wouldn’t let her come, but relief washed through her as she fell over the edge, her legs shaking, her heart pounding, as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. Gendry was walking them into their bedroom and had unsheathed himself from inside her by the time she came back to herself. He turned her onto her stomach across the bed. She moaned, though, his cock burying inside her once more, this time thrusting hard and fast. It was no time at all and she was racked with another climax, her bones turning to jelly as he pounded into her. She knew he was close, could tell by the snap of his hips.

 

She gripped his wrist, her face pressed to the mattress. His grunt vibrated through her. He pulled out and she was turned about and on him, bringing his cock into her mouth, his seed spilling across her tongue. She swallowed him down greedily, taking every drop for herself. She released him once he was spent, finding him sitting back watching her, chest still heaving.

 

After a moment, he stood and went back to the kitchen then returned with a glass of water and handed it to her. She smiled gratefully at him and drank all of it down as he settled against the headboard. 

 

“That was different,” she said as she moved into his arms. “I liked it.”

 

He chuckled. “I’m glad I could make you happy.”

 

She straddled his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re what makes me happy, Gendry. I love you. What happened with Ros was a lot of things at once...”

 

He embraced her and pressed a kiss to her head. “I know.”

 

“Do you also know that I have no interest in Oberyn?”

 

He nodded. “I know that, too. Doesn’t mean I like that he made you blush.”

 

She lifted her head and smiled. “Do you know what makes me blush all the time?” He shook his head. “I can feel you lookin’ at me sometimes. And I know all the dirty things racin’ through my mind are what’s goin’ through yours. I blush when we get in the truck sometimes cause I think ‘bout all the times we’ve fooled around in there. Or when we get left alone in the barn and that time in the stall...”

 

He chuckled. “That took some heavy convincin’ on your part.”

 

She smiled. “It’s all of our little secrets together. We’ve been together for a long time. Hard to remember not bein’ with you. And so sometimes, when I’m alone with my thoughts, which always drift to you, I find myself blushin’ at how much I still want you.”

 

He rolled them to their sides and brushed her hair from her face. “Reckon we’ve both been stupid over stuff.”

 

She nodded. “Stupid and stubborn,” she said with a smile. “I love you, Gendry. I fell in love with ya when I didn’t even believe in it. That’s gotta mean somethin’, right?”

 

“It does to me,” he declared, taking her mouth with his once more.

  
  



	16. In The High and Low I'll Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family bonding...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love and support. We greatly appreciate it. 
> 
> Check the end notes as we're going to do something a bit different for the next update, which won't be on Sunday.

**ROBB**

_ When the old souls of your shoes are worn through _ __  
_ And it's too far to find your way home _ __  
_ You're feeling older than you used to _ __  
_ Can't stop thinking you'll be left alone. _ __  
__  
_ Don't you worry now _ __  
_ Don't let life get you down _ __  
_ Just remember you're mine! _ __  
__  
_ And I'll see you in the high and low _ __  
_ In the high and low I'll find you _ __  
_ And I'll see you anywhere you go _ __  
_ Anywhere you go _ __  
_ I'll follow you anywhere. _ __  
__  
_ You say you're so cold _ __  
_ As you reach for _ __  
_ My oldest t-shirt to keep you warm _ __  
_ We'll never grow old _ __  
_ We'll never want more _ __  
_ This love will weather any storm _ __  
__  
_ Don't you worry now _ __  
_ Don't let life get you down _ __  
_ Just remember you're mine _ __  
__  
_ And I'll see you in the high and low _ __  
_ In the high and low I'll find you _ __  
_ And I'll see you anywhere you go _ __  
_ Anywhere you go _ __  
_ I'll follow you anywhere _ __  
__  
_ Hey hey I will _ __  
_ I will follow you _ __  
_ Hey hey I will _ __  
_ I will follow you _ __  
  


_ High And Low  
_ **_Joshua Radin_ **

  
  


Fear gripped Robb's heart at the crunch of gravel and roar of an engine. They weren’t expecting Olenna, or anyone else. He rushed to the open door of the barn, Bronn right on his heels, but upon seeing a familiar truck, he released a sigh.

 

“It’s Garlan,” he exhaled. Jon relinquished his hold of the water bucket, looking relieved there was no need to put out the fire. He glanced back at their visitor and another familiar face appeared. “Loras is with him. I’ll see what they want.” He wiped his hands on the rag he kept in his pocket, walking out to greet them.

 

Garlan was already speaking to Margaery and Dany. Loras was leaning against the truck. He gave an easy smile. “Her orders,” he said as he tipped his hat at Robb. It was then he noticed the brothers weren’t wearing their normal spiffy suits, but trousers and shirts much like he wore every day. 

 

“Whose orders? And what, exactly, are those orders?” he asked.

 

Margaery let out an exasperated sigh. “I knew she gave in too easily. She’s sent them here, with lumber and tools, to build stairs down to the spot where we’re getting married and she expects it done today.”

 

He looked at Garlan and Loras. Both of them nodded. “And her words to us were ‘get that boy she’s marrying and the hired hand I’m paying to help’,” Loras added.

 

Robb looked back at the barn and sighed. “Bronn’s helpin’ Jon with the still.”

 

“You can drive to Highgarden and tell her that,” Garlan said as he climbed into his truck. “Meanwhile, I’ve found it’s just easier to do what she says.”

 

Dany walked down the steps. “I’ll go tell Bronn,” she said, heading towards the barn at a brisk pace.

 

“I’m gonna take the truck on down there,” Garlan told them. Loras climbed in with him and they pulled around to the side of the house. 

 

Margaery had her arms folded over her chest, her pretty mouth pinched tight, nose wrinkled as she stared after her brothers.

 

“Stairs will be better than nearly trippin’ over roots,” he offered.

 

She rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known she’d get her way somehow.”

 

He stepped up to the edge of the porch and placed a kiss on her belly. She cupped his face and gave him a small smile. “It’s a good thing,” he said with a nod then spotted Bronn walking towards them shaking his head. “He doesn’t look happy either.”

 

“I’m not sure your grandmother pays me well enough for all this manual labor,” Bronn grumbled as he walked past them. 

 

“Where’s Dany?” Margaery asked, stopping him.

 

He glanced at the barn, then back at them. “You get three guesses and the first two don’t count,” he chuckled, then made his way to the back of the house.

 

“Rickon inside?” Robb asked, afraid the little boy’s curiosity could have him walking in on something he shouldn’t.

 

“Sitting at the table helping me make lunch,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll keep him inside.”

 

He nodded and stepped away. “Might wake up Gendry to help us.”

 

She shook her head. “Don’t. Let him and Arya sleep.”

 

“Almost don’t seem fair that Jon and Dany get to sneak away and we’re workin’,” he pouted.

 

She rolled her eyes again, her signature smirk firmly in place. “Life’s not fair,” she reminded him. “And you and I got to sleep in this morning while Rickon was piled up in bed with them, so don’t complain too much.”

 

He smiled. “Spose you're right. Shame on me.”

  
  


*~*

 

They’d managed to get the footers into the ground and had the basic foundation of stairs built leading up the hill. Garlan and Loras had less experience with manual labor than Robb or Bronn, but they were bodies who could swing hammers, drive in nails, and hold a plumbline. After Bronn had worked out how they would build them, some of it requiring shovels to dig holes, they had started right in. Conversation flowed freely with the absence of a woman or child. It was usually Bronn with bawdy stories of his time out West. Robb didn’t know how much of it to believe, but given his quick mind and ability to plan, he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

 

Margaery came out near noon and offered each of them a sandwich, potato chips, and a drink, which they gladly took. She stood staring at the steps, a frown on her face, as they dug into their lunches.

 

“We’re the ones out here working and sweating. Why do  _ you _ look so unhappy?” Garlan asked her.

 

“Is there enough lumber to build a ramp?”

 

“A ramp  _ and _ stairs?” Bronn asked.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Bran can’t get down the stairs, now can he?”

 

Robb looked up at her with a smile, his heart full. She loved his family so much, worried over his little brothers like they were her own. She loved them as he loved them. Loras reached up a hand from where he was sitting on the ground and took hers. “We’ll bring more tomorrow if we don’t have it today, dear sister.”

 

She ruffled his honey blonde curls and nodded, then returned to the house with instructions for them to holler when they were done. Garlan and Bronn had already finished their food so they went to the truck to see if they had enough to at least start the ramp. That left Loras and Robb sitting at the top of the hill, still eating. 

 

“It’s finally going to happen,” Loras said with a smile.

 

Robb nodded. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”

 

“What took you so long to ask?”

 

“I always wanted to be in better position money wise, ya know? I can’t give her the kinda wealth y’all have, but I wanted to be stable at least.” He sighed. “Just never seemed like we had a good hold up here.”

 

Loras shrugged. “That never mattered to her.”

 

Robb frowned. “I know. It mattered to me, though. I wanted to be the man she deserved.”

 

Loras wiped his hand on the rag laying over his knee. “You always were. You were the only one that doubted it.”

 

“Not the only one.”

 

He chuckled. “Alright, fine. Not the only one. But she was the only one who should’ve mattered.”

 

Robb had always liked Loras. Of all her brothers, they had always gotten on really well. He’d been supportive of their relationship from the beginning, covering for Margaery when she would come back late. He was the sibling she was closest to, as well.

 

Robb wiped his hands on his britches, a smile on his face as he nudged Loras with his elbow. “Won’t be long and you’ll be marryin’ some beautiful girl.”

 

Loras snorted and rolled his eyes. “Oh, I bet Renly will love that,” he said as he took a bite of one of his potato chips. 

 

Robb furrowed his brow. “What does he have to do with it?”

 

Loras froze and looked over at him with wide eyes, terror etched in their blue depths. Robb didn’t understand his comment or his reaction. Loras began cleaning his hands and stood. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

 

Robb jumped to his feet and stopped him from walking away, but Loras avoided his gaze. He worked over the conversation and realization hit him. Loras was  _ with _ Renly. That meant Loras was... “Oh.”

 

Loras looked over his shoulder. “I thought Margaery told you,” he hissed.

 

“Margaery?” He shook his head. “Never said a word,” he whispered. “Who all knows?”

 

“Up until a few seconds ago, only Margaery. Garlan and Bronn have  _ no _ idea.”

 

He could see Loras was panicking and held up both hands to calm him. “Stop, relax. I won’t stay nothin’.”

 

“You know what could happen...”

 

Robb nodded, knowing that others would get violent. “Yeah. I know. I won’t say nothin’. But ya gotta calm down or they’ll know somethin’ ain’t right,” he said calmly. “I promise, no one will hear it from me.”

 

Loras took a deep shaky breath and Robb coaxed him to sit back down. He gave him a few to calm a bit more, keeping a close eye on Garlan and Bronn still talking at the side of the truck. “How long this been goin’ on?” he finally asked.

 

He frowned. “Twelve years,” he answered softly. “Margaery wouldn’t even know if she hadn’t discovered us.” He shook his head. “She just...she was stunned.” His voice was still soft, barely above a whisper. “We talked and she started covering for me like I did her.”

 

Robb ran a hand through his hair, still trying to process it all. “Has...it always been Renly?”

 

He nodded and they were both silent as this new bond formed between them. He couldn’t imagine what Loras and even Renly had been through. It was one thing for him and Margaery to be sneaking around for years. Everyone seemed to know that not very well kept secret. But if the wrong person found out about Renly and Loras, their lives could be in danger. But as the silence grew he could sense Loras’s unease until he finally spoke. “You really won’t say anything?”

 

Robb looked over at him and shook his head. “Secret is safe with me. On my father’s grave,” he promised. Bronn and Garlan walked around the house, Garlan looking less than happy, but then Robb thought he rarely looked happy. “We have enough to finish the stairs and  _ start _ the ramp. We’ll have to come back tomorrow after church.”

 

Bronn smirked. “That’s why I like these heathens,” he said as he pointed at Robb. “They don’t force me to go to church.”

 

“Better watch it or I’ll tell grandmother how much you miss hearing the scriptures,” Garlan joked. “She’ll bring church to you.”

 

“Garlan, I would hate for you to have an accident down this mountain,” Bronn threatened. “You two done, yet? I’d like to get these done ‘fore it gets dark. And make sure you tell your grandmother she’s payin’ me extra for every stair I put in.”

 

Garlan and Loras pointed at each other quickly. “You!”

 

The four men laughed. Margaery reappeared at the back door and collected the plates from Robb and Loras. He smiled as he handed it over to his sister. “Better idea. Margaery tells her.”

 

Margaery tilted her head and eyed all of them. “Tells who what?”

 

“Bronn wants to be paid per stair he builds,” Robb explained

 

She was quiet for a moment then started laughing. “That’s funny. You think you can dictate price to her,” she said as she turned and walked back into the house. 

 

Bronn shook his head. “She really loves me.”

 

All three men shook their heads. “Tolerates you,” Loras supplied.

 

“At best,” Robb finished. “But come on. I’m like Bronn. I’d like to finish by nightfall.”

 

An hour went by, Robb still running through what Loras had told him. He started to make connections in his head, about Loras and even to some extent Renly. They always seemed to find one another at social functions, and while both men were two of the most eligible bachelors in the state, with money behind their names, neither had seemed in a rush to settle down. They always went to the dances, Loras having his pick of dance partners. His sister Sansa had fancied him for a long time before she met Dickon Tarly. But now, it all seemed to click in place.

 

They worked together, Garlan and Bronn discussing some of the various girls in town, Loras chiming in every now and then, about which girl was prettier. Now that he knew, so much more made sense. He never seemed to have interest even though he would make comments about who was the prettiest or best-dressed lady in town. 

 

He’d keep his promise and would never tell a soul. He knew not only could Loras be disinherited but also the physical danger he would be in with people in the town. Margaery was so close to her brothers, especially Loras. He wouldn’t wish the hell that would be unleashed on him on anyone. 

 

By late afternoon Gendry had surfaced and jumped in to help. He was used to building things, so the work went by quicker. They managed to get the stairs finished before five with a promise from Loras and Garlan to return after church with the materials to do the ramp. 

 

Rickon had come out just as they were leaving and looked at the steps with a smile. “They’re real nice, Robb!”

 

“We’re gonna build a ramp for Bran tomorrow,” he told him and watched as his bright eyes lit up at the announcement.

 

“Can I help this time? Miss Margaery kept me inside helpin’ her all day,” he groaned. He had to wonder how long Dany had been in the barn with Jon if Rickon had been inside all day. That meant he was probably too energized to fall asleep as he had been recently. 

 

Robb looked at the steps and then back at his little brother. “Tell ya what. You can help now,” he said. “Test em out.”

 

Bronn looked over at him as they watched Rickon run down the stairs. “Test em?”

 

“Shut up. I’m tirin’ him out.”

 

Rickon had made it to the top of the steps again, not even breathing hard. “Well, that was good for one person. But we’re gonna have ‘bout twenty-five here that day. Can you try em out that many times?”

 

Rickon nodded and ran down the steps and back up, over and over again. Bronn shook his head. “You look simple, but I reckon you’re not as stupid as Olenna says you are.”

 

Robb rolled his eyes. “This is for her. Hope she appreciates the hard work that went into it.”

 

Bronn scoff. “Right. Cause that’s what rich people are known for, appreciatin’ the efforts of the hired help,” he said as he turned and walked to the house.

 

Rickon did about ten sets before he collapsed at the top. “It’s a lotta stairs.” 

 

He laughed and ruffled his hair. “I know. You don’t need to test anymore.”

 

“Good.”

 

The back door opened and Margaery stepped out. “Rickon, get off the ground. Supper’s ready, y'all come in and get cleaned up. Jon and Gendry moved the other table in.”

 

*~*

 

They’d finished hiding all the pieces and parts of the still once Arya and Gendry had left for the night. Bronn was in front of them, headed towards the house. Robb tugged on Jon's sleeve, urging him to walk slower, wanting a minute to talk. 

 

“What’d y'all get up to this mornin’ after the Tyrell’s got here?”

 

It was dark, but he could still see his brother blush. “This why we’re walkin’ slow? So you can give me a hard time?”

 

Robb chuckled and shook his head. “Not really, but it is fun.”

 

“Jackass,” he grumbled, then sighed. “So, what is it?”

 

“Well, Margaery told me I gotta have someone stand up for me at the weddin’. Cause we ain’t invitin’ everyone we know cause of the Lannisters, Dany’s gonna be Margaery’s maid a’ honor and I was wonderin’ if ya wanted to be my best man.”

 

Jon stopped walking and gave him a broad smile. “A’ course. Honored you'd asked me.”

 

“Between you or Bronn...” Robb joked.

 

Jon rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Weddin’ s gettin’ pretty close. Ya nervous?”

 

“Nope.” He shook his head. “Been waitin’ my whole life for this.” They started walking again and Robb looked at him, grinning. “Whata ‘bout you?”

 

“Whata ‘bout me?” he asked, his brooding frown making an appearance.

 

“Dany the one?”

 

He took a deep breath and stopped walking again. Glancing at the house he ran a hand through his dark hair. “I think so.”

 

“Why ya hesitatin’?”

 

Jon shrugged. “Not sure what she’s plannin’ once she’s got what she came for.”

 

“Ask her.”

 

“And if she says she’s goin’ home?” 

 

Robb frowned and folded his arms over his chest. “She hasn’t said that, has she?” Jon shook his head. His eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets. “Lord a’ mighty, Jon. _ Ask her _ . She can’t make you feel better ‘bout it ‘til you ask. At least then, she knows you want her ta stay.” Jon let out a heavy sigh and nodded his head, staring at his boots. “Hey, look at me,” he ordered him. “You love her, right?” he asked, once Jon looked up, but kept going, not giving him a chance to answer, “I know you do, we all know it. It's as plain as the nose on your face. And she loves you. I shouldn't have ta keep tellin' you this, but you gotta fight for her. I didn’t for Marg and look how fucked up it got. Ask her, then tell her what you want. Jon, what y’all have…most folks’ll never get a chance at it. Now, I know you, know how you worry, but if you let her go just cause you're scared…” He grabbed his shoulder and shook him, pointing a finger in his face. “I’ll beat the shit outta you, that's a promise. You hear me?”

 

Jon snorted but nodded his head. “I hear ya.” 

 

“Good.” He slapped his arm, then flung his own around his shoulder and walked them towards the house. They were both quiet as they went in knowing the boys would already be asleep. Dany was seated at the kitchen table. An abandoned cup of tea sat across from her, steaming and filling the room with the crisp scent of peppermint. “Where’s Margaery?” he asked, as Jon walked over to her, leaning down and placing a kiss on her head.

 

She winced, grabbing Jon’s hand that rested on her shoulder. “Bathroom. Seems her morning sickness is moving into night.”

 

He frowned. “She alright?”

 

“She’s fine, but she’s no longer eating collards,” Margaery announced, shuffling into the room. She sat at the table across from Dany and sipped slowly at her tea. “When were you sick?” she asked her.

 

“Mornings, which didn’t sit well with my clubbing lifestyle. I felt like I didn’t sleep properly for months, then your body changes and you start to feel better, the baby gets bigger and you get all these interesting side effects.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Nothing you’ll find in those books about childbirth. Mainly because they’re written by men,” she said and both women rolled their eyes. Robb looked at Jon and wondered if they should take offense, but the smile on Dany’s face kept him from it. “You’ll get cravings. They can go from ordinary things like cheese to the bizarre like canned fish.”

 

Margaery shook her head and he could see she was barely keeping herself in her chair. “Please, no mention of food.”

 

Dany patted her hand. “Sorry. You do have some things to look forward to though. You’ll be in a generally better mood, want to get the house in order. It won’t be a want, really, more of a necessity. And this is one Robb should like,” she eyed him for a moment, then leaned in close to Margaery, “you’ll want sex to the point of exhaustion.”

 

Robb smirked at the shocked look on Margaery’s face. “We’re doing that now,” she whispered urgently.

 

Dany put a hand on her arm, her smile wicked. “To the point of distraction. You won’t be able to get enough.”

 

Jon groaned, walking over to the coffee pot. “Can y'all please talk about somethin’ else? Anythin’ else,” he begged. None of them missed the blush on his face and they all shared a quiet laugh at his expense. 

 

Margaery put her chin in her hand and smiled at Robb. “You need to figure out how to make the walls thicker.”

 

He looked at Jon who held his hands up. “Don’t look at me! I suggested it when Arya and Gendry got married.”

 

Margaery chuckled, spinning around to eye him. “Yet you  _ built _ them a house, instead.”

 

“That was an odd choice. Why not just alter this one?” Dany questioned him.

 

“Gendry,” Jon answered. “Wanted to give him a home as much as him  _ and _ Arya one.”

 

The smile Dany gave him could’ve warmed the coldest soul. He watched as she got up and went to him. They only had eyes for each other. He and Margaery may as well have not even been in the room for all the attention they paid them, while they whispered and touched, teasing smiles on their faces. Robb knew his brother was worried about nothing. Dany was his Margaery. He firmly believed they would end up married before anyone knew what happened. 

 

Margaery stood, rinsed, and dried out her cup then came to him, leaning against his side. He kissed her cheek. “I’m gonna take her to bed. You two don’t do anythin’ we wouldn’t do,” he told them.

 

Dany managed to pull herself out of their private bubble and laughed. “Considering she’s already pregnant,  _ is  _ there anything you wouldn’t do?”

 

Margaery snorted and walked along with Robb towards their bedroom, but stopped him short and pushed him into the bathroom. “Actually, I need a bath.”

 

“Want me to wash you?” he asked as he pulled her close.

 

She sighed. “Yes. I’m bone tired and I don’t know that I have the energy to get in and out of the tub. And you need a bath if you’re going to be sleeping in the bed with me.”

 

He chuckled. “Do I stink?”

 

She shrugged before she pulled her dress over her head as he turned on the taps. “I don’t know how bad it really is but it’s like I can smell everything and all of it makes me want to vomit.” She presented her back to him as she hunched forward a bit. “Can you?” He unhooked her bra and watched as she held her breasts tenderly as they were released. 

 

“Is it my imagination or have they gotten bigger?” he asked, looking her over. 

 

Her mouth turned down in a frown. She nodded. “Yes, they have. I sent a note back with Loras and Garlan asking grandmother for some bigger brassieres. The ones I have are starting to hurt, they’re too small. And I can’t go without one because it hurts something terrible _and_ I feel like I’m flopping around all day and you better stop laughing this instant Robb Stark!”

 

Pressing his lips together he tried to control his laughter. She still cut him a dark glare as he helped her into the tub. He went into their room to retrieve their night clothes and returned to find her laid back in the tub. He sat on the stool beside her. “Ya sure ya want me in there with you? I can wait for ya to finish.”

 

She nodded and took his hand. “I want you to sit behind me and rub my shoulders.” 

 

He pulled his shirt over his head. “I think you’ve managed to get bossier, too,” he teased.

 

“Stop poking fun at me or I’ll make you sleep outside,” she grumped. He stripped out of his britches and shorts, kicking them to the side. She sat up and let him sit behind her, his own muscles protesting as he lowered himself into the water. 

 

She settled against his lap and let her head fall back onto his shoulder only to sit forward again for the soap and rag. She turned around and began trying to wash his neck which only caused him to laugh. He took it from her and rubbed himself clean before she leaned against him again. “Better?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her.

 

“Yes, but I can hear you smiling.”

 

“You can  _ hear _ me smilin’? Maybe it’s cause I’m happy.”

 

“I think you’re getting too much enjoyment out of my misery.”

 

He pressed his lips to her temple as he brought his hands up to rub her shoulders. “I don’t want ya ta be miserable, darlin’.”

 

She moaned as his thumbs rubbed along the ridge of her neck. “You keep doing that and I’ll stay happy.”

 

“Whatever ya want.”

 

*~*

 

Shortly after they'd climbed from the bath, they settled in bed. Robb placed a kiss against her forehead, wondering if he should talk to her about his conversation with Loras. She had to know he wouldn’t tell anyone. Perhaps she didn’t though. Maybe her trust only extended so far and she simply wasn’t willing to risk Loras no matter how she felt for Robb. He entwined her fingers with his, hoping she wouldn’t still hide behind the lie. “You never told me about Loras,” he whispered.

 

“What about Loras?” she asked casually, but she'd tensed against him.

 

“Renly,” was all he said. She slowly sat up in the bed and looked at him with true fear in her pretty eyes. He put a comforting hand on her thigh. “He told me today, thought I knew. Thanked me for keepin’ his secret all a’ these years.”

 

She covered her mouth for a moment then turned to fully face him. He sat up and she released a deep sigh. “You know what could happen.”

 

He nodded. “But do ya think I would have anythin’ ta do with that?”

 

She shook her head emphatically. “Never. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t tell anyone. Loras is my brother and I love him...”

 

He took her hand and sighed. “Darlin’, I ain’t gonna tell. I promised him. I’m promisin’ you.”

 

She looked down at her hand enclosed in his. “What brought this up?”

 

“We were talkin’ ‘bout how it’s ‘bout time you and me to get hitched. I joked that he’d have to get married soon and he joked back that Renly wouldn’t take too kindly to that.” He sighed, frowning, the memory of Loras’ panic vivid. “He panicked when he realized I didn’t know. But I told him I wouldn’t say nothin’. He said you’re the only one who knows.”

 

She nodded. “An accident.”

 

He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “It’s a huge secret ya been keepin’. That why you and him are so close?”

 

“Yes,” she whispered, clutching his hand tighter. “He knew about you and where I was and what I was doing. So, he helped me like I helped him. He’d wait for me to get home and we would go in together. My family wouldn’t worry if I was with him,” she explained, her voice so low that he barely heard her. “And it just happened for so long like that. Felt like we were the only two people in the world who could tell one another everything.”

 

“I'm glad you had each other, brothers are good to have.” 

 

She bit her lip and stared at their quilt for a while. “He was so angry with me for marrying Joffrey. On  _ your _ behalf. He went a week without talking to me. Told me I was a damn fool not to marry the man I loved for something as silly as money.” She shook her head and he felt an even bigger swelling of respect for Loras. “Told me I was being stupid because, if he could, he'd marry the man he loved and to hell with everything else,” she whispered. “When we finally talked again, he told me he was jealous. I didn’t have to hide who I loved and I was  _ choosing _ wrong. He let it drop even though he  _ knew _ I wasn’t happy. Said it was my own damn mistake to make.”

 

He took her hand in his and frowned. “Over and done with. We’re gonna get married, have a baby, an’ all a’ that other stuff’s in the past. We can’t change it no matter how much we want to.”

 

She nodded and looked at him. “And this...how do you feel about him now that you know?”

 

He heaved a sigh. “Honestly? I feel bad for em. No one should have ta hide. If anythin’, that last part made me like em more,” he said with a smile. He put a kiss on the back of her hand. “But I promise ya, Margaery, I won’t ever tell anyone.”

 

She gave him a watery smile and pressed her lips to his. “I love you. I always have.”

 

“I love you, too, darlin’.”

 

*~*

 

He was helping a frantic Margaery carry plates outside to line the long table. She had decided that dinner would be best outside to give them all more room. Dany was trying to keep her calm as well, anticipating her moves before she made them. Loras and Garlan would be there at any moment and she was determined to serve her brother’s lunch. Robb surmised she wanted it to be the best meal they’d ever eaten. He hoped her brothers would lie to her if it wasn’t. 

 

Bronn and Jon lowered Bran’s chair into the yard with the latter helping him get to the table.

 

Arya and Gendry emerged from their house, but he could tell they hadn’t had much sleep. Bronn saw them coming and shook his head. “If those two slept instead of fucked she might be more pleasant,” he grumbled as he handed Robb the silverware.

 

Robb groaned. “She’s my fuckin’ sister.”

 

“She certainly is,” he replied and clapped Robb on the back before he went back inside. 

 

Jon found him a few minutes later, standing beneath the walnut tree staring up at the yellow leaves as they fluttered in the afternoon breeze. Better than watching Arya and Gendry fawn over one another. “You alright?” he asked.

 

“Remind me again why I can’t shoot Bronn.”

 

He chuckled. “Ya can’t. Let’s say ya try an’ miss. Then you’ve just pissed em off.”

 

Robb handed him the silverware. “Put these on the table. I gotta go inside.” He didn’t explain anymore, just stomped past Arya and Gendry as they offered to help Rickon, who was seated at the end of the table, showing them how to fold napkins as Dany taught him.

 

Entering the kitchen, however, was a mistake. Margaery was beside herself, stirring something on the stove, describing a certain bowl over and over, while Dany searched the bottom cabinets and Bronn looked through the top ones.

 

“I don’t see it,” Dany sighed. “But I found a gravy boat,” she said with a triumphant smile, producing it.

 

“No bowl up here, either,” Bronn declared.

 

“Which bowl?” Robb asked and Margaery sighed in relief at seeing him. “The deep one with blue roses.”

 

“You sent me outside with it an hour ago. It had cornbread in it.”

 

Her shoulders sagged. “Did I?” Her chin began trembling. She stopped stirring. Dany gestured at her with her head and he took the hint, pulling her away from the stove and out to the back porch. He forced her to sit on the top step and take a few deep breaths. “I don’t have time for this!” she cried. “I still have to take the roast out of the oven, get the gravy poured, finish the tea–”

 

He took both of her hands in his. “It’s alright. Dany’s got it for a minute. You need fresh air and a deep breath.”

 

Her eyes watered. “Don’t tell me what I need. I need to get back in the kitchen,” she said as she tried to stand, but his hand on her shoulder kept her seated. 

 

“I’m intervenin’. Your brothers wouldn’t want ya workin’ yourself up like this. You know that. So rest for just a minute. You been cookin’ all mornin’ between runnin’ to the bathroom.” He took a knee on the bottom step and took her hands back in his. “Loras and Garlan are gonna be thrilled that you even went through the trouble.”

 

“What if they don’t like it, Robb. What if they think I’m a bad cook or I didn’t do it right?”

 

He shook his head. “First of all, you’re an amazin’ cook. Arya don’t particularly care for ya but she likes your food,” he said with a smile. She chuckled. “Second, do what right?”

 

“ _ This _ . I’m not takin’ care of the boys, or the house, or you...I don’t feel like I’m doing any of it right,” she whimpered. He watched her face fall, tears spilling down her cheeks and his heart broke.

 

“Darlin’, you’re doin’ an amazin’ job. Rickon and Bran are thrivin’ with you here. Bran’s even crackin’ jokes and that’s cause a’ you.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “Men came in here and damn near destroyed our house, but you had it feelin’ like a home again in seconds. Not the things in it. It’s you. This place always feels more like home when you’re here. Even my Pa knew that.” He kissed the back of her knuckles and squeezed her hands tight. “As for me, I been in love with you for a long time. Your brothers are comin’ here to work on a project for our weddin’.” He smiled and brushed away her tears. “Turns out if I was any happier with you, I’d explode cause I wouldn’t be able to contain it all within me.” 

 

She pulled her hands from his and wiped at her own eyes then cupped his face and placed a kiss against his lips. “You’ve always been the one that could make me cry and make me stop, too.”

 

He smirked. “To be fair, when I used to make ya cry, I didn’t know how ta tell ya that I was jealous and wanted all of your attention.”

 

“Boys.”

 

He chuckled and nodded. “Maybe we’ll learn one day.”

 

She took a deep breath and kissed him again. “When did you get so good at these heart to hearts?”

 

He helped her stand and held her hand tighter. “When keepin’ all a’ it inside me almost cost me you. Not gonna ever let ya have to guess how I feel ‘bout ya again.”

 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he kept his at her hips. The back door opened and Dany gave them a smile. “Everything is on the table and your brothers just pulled up.”

 

Margaery went from looking relaxed to panicked again. He took her hand and they followed Dany through the house, but he stopped her before she walked to the front porch, untying the apron at her waist. 

 

Loras and Garlan stood at the side garden and looked up at them as they exited the house. Loras gave her a bright smile. “You did this for us?” She nodded and he embraced her. “You didn’t have to. We would’ve eaten a sandwich like yesterday,” he said as he pulled away. 

 

Garlan looked at the people gathered around the table, then at Margaery. His hardened exterior cracked and he embraced her as well, lifting her from her feet. “Show us our seats, Margy.”

 

She and Robb sat at the head, Loras to her left and Garlan to his right. Arya and Gendry sat in the middle of the table, Bran and Bronn across from them. Rickon sat between Dany and Jon who was telling him to mind his manners. 

 

Food was served after Garlan joked with Bronn to lead them in a prayer. He could feel Margaery’s leg shaking against his beneath the table. He put a gentle hand on her, holding it steady. She looked at him gratefully, lacing his fingers with hers.

 

“Margy, this is delicious,” Garlan said with a smile.

 

“Thank you,” she blushed but Robb noticed she was mostly just pushing food around her plate. 

 

After a few minutes, Loras looked at her with a sweet smile. “How the hell are we supposed to work after this?”

 

“No swearin’ at the table,” Rickon admonished. Jon whispered something to him but he protested loudly. “Miss Margaery says it all the time to Mister Bronn!”

 

Margaery and Bronn both laughed and looked at Loras. “He’s right. I do.”

 

Loras winked at her then turned to Rickon. “Apologies, little Rickon. Won’t do it again.”

 

Rickon went back to eating and Robb ran a hand over Margaery’s back. The rest of the meal passed with easy conversation, though Margaery still picked at her food. As plates began being cleared away, Robb stopped Dany on her way to the kitchen. “Margaery hardly ate a thing.”

 

She gave him a nod. “I’ll force feed her if I have to,” she said with a wink and walked into the house. 

 

Once the table was cleared, Jon, Robb, and Gendry moved it to the barn. They weren’t running moonshine that day, leaving everyone to help on the ramp. Bronn and Garlan were measuring Bran’s chair when they came from the barn. 

 

“What do you want the rest of us to do?” Jon asked as Gendry handed him a shovel.

 

Gendry had clearly been given the reigns over the project. “Make sure the boards are cut right and sanded. Measure twice, saw it once.”

 

Robb turned to Bran. “Do ya wanna go back inside?”

 

He looked up at him and shook his head. “If it’s alright, I’d like to stay and watch.”

 

Robb gave a nod and ruffled his hair. “Course.”

 

After about an hour, Arya had pushed Bran to the back porch and she sat on the top step, talking to him, her head leaning against the post as they listened to the radio. With Gendry showing them how it needed to flow so that it wasn’t so steep and adding in several places for him to stop and turn his chair, the actual construction of the ramp went by quickly. 

 

Gendry and Jon worked well together, and for some strange reason, it made Robb jealous to see it. There were times that he felt out of place with their friendship, like a third wheel. There was nothing that brought two men together like fighting side by side in a war, he knew that. But then, Jon seemed to identify with Gendry on a level he couldn’t. He was thankful he had loving parents, selfishly he wouldn’t want to trade places, but he didn’t like sharing Jon. He was his brother. They'd been nearly inseparable since they were infants. 

 

He shook it off and went back to helping Loras and Garlan with hammering nails into the planks the way Gendry had shown them. They'd even added rails to keep someone from falling. 

 

By the time they finished, it was as excellent a piece of craftsmanship as he’d ever seen. All of them were proud of it. Margaery called them all up to the house, slices of pie waiting for them. They all sat down on the edge of the porch, a plate in hand, shoveling in bites of crispy apple pie, each one, at different times, groaning.

 

“How can I still be eating?” Loras asked as he brought another bite to his lips. 

 

“Tell me something,” he said softly to Loras. “What’s been goin’ on with Margaery and Garlan?”

 

“You mean  _ Margy _ ?” he asked, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “Garlan’s been pissed ever since he found out that you and she were...physical.”

 

“How long ago did he find out?”

 

“Four years? The day he found out, it’s like she stopped being his little Margy. He started calling her Margaery. It gutted her. She felt like it meant he was ashamed of her. And Garlan wouldn’t talk to me about it cause he knew I would take her side.” He heaved a sigh. “He thought she was screwing everything up by not committing to you given the seriousness of your relationship and hated that a lie was being perpetrated on the Lannisters about her.” He leaned back on his hands. “You remember how he used to be with her? You were the only boy he would allow around her because he didn’t see you as a threat. She tried to confide in him like she did me and...it just blew up in her face. She cried for days.”

 

Robb frowned. “What changed today?”

 

Loras shrugged. “Maybe it was seeing that she’s serious about this. Maybe he feels like she’s where she belongs doing what she should be doing. Maybe he just likes roast, I don’t know. Garlan is hard to read and he certainly doesn’t talk about his feelings to me. I think he does, a little, to Willas.”

 

An hour later Margaery hugged both of her brothers goodbye and thanked them again, handing over a bag with two roast beef sandwiches inside. Loras hugged her and placed a kiss on her cheek. She turned from him to Garlan who held her tight and whispered something in her ear. She pulled back and cupped his face, putting a kiss on his cheek and sent them on their way. 

 

“Alright, Rickon, in the bath,” Jon said. They all held back grins as he fussed and quarreled all the way to the bathroom. 

 

Gendry and Bronn got Bran back in the house, then Arya and Gendry went home, saying they needed sleep. Bronn stayed on the porch puffing on his pipe as Dany’s giggles and Jon and Rickon's laughter filtered out from the bathroom. 

 

He took the moment of respite and pulled Margaery behind him to their bedroom and shut the door. He sat her on the edge of the bed and went about removing her shoes. “Robb...what are you doing?”

 

“Ya took care a people all day. My turn to take care a you.” He slid his hands beneath her skirt and unbuckled each garter and removed her stockings, placing both delicately across her vanity bench. He had her stand, sliding her skirt over her hips and tossing it across the trunk at the foot of the bed. Her garter belt was next, placing it with her stockings. He pulled her blouse over her head and it went the same way as her skirt. He could see the rigid line of the brassiere beneath her slip and remembered the box Loras had given him from the female apparel store in town. He opened the lid and Margaery stared at it in wonder as he helped her remove her slip. “Pick one, see what fits.”

 

She reached for one and removed her brassiere, much as she had the night before, delicately. She slid it on but shook her head. “Damn. That was a size bigger too.”

 

“Darlin’, hate to break it to you, but they’re bigger than that.”

 

She looked at him in a near panic. “How much bigger?”

 

“Try three,” he whispered and rubbed his hands over her thighs soothingly. She pulled it from the box and slid it on, sighing in relief. 

 

She nodded but tears filled her eyes. “They’re so big so quick?”

 

He brought her to stand and tugged a clean nightgown over her head. He sat behind her on the bed and brushed and braided her hair as she’d once shown him how to do Sansa’s, then helped her to bed, tugging the light sheet around her hips. 

 

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

 

He smiled and sat on the chair he’d pulled beside the bed. “I’m going to have a quick bath once Rickon's done, then I’m gonna come back in here and read to ya.”

 

“ _ Read _ ? Is that a clever word for sex?”

 

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, it ain’t. You pick the book and I’ll do my best not to destroy it when I come back.”

 

She looked at her hands. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Cause I love you. Ya spent all day tryin’ to take care a’ us and did a wonderful job, but I get ta take care a’ you now.” He could still hear Rickon talking away, so he stalled a bit longer. “Did you finally eat?” 

 

She nodded. “Dany told me I couldn’t help her with the dishes until I ate all my roast and potatoes.” She sighed. “I was just so anxious during lunch...” she trailed off and took his hand in hers. “I just wanted them to see that I was where I belonged and unlike with Joffrey, I’m thriving here. I feel like I’m part of this family.”

 

Robb moved to sit beside her on the bed. “Darlin’, you are part a’ this family. Ya have been for a long time. Loras knew that. Garlan, too.”

 

She looked down at their hands and took a deep breath. “Garlan said something like that before he left. He’s been so disappointed in me for so long that when he called me Margy it was all I could do not to tumble into a sobbing mess. It was the first time in years that I felt like he approved of me...”

 

Robb frowned. “I’m so sorry he was treatin’ ya like that. I didn’t know.”

 

She shrugged. “He mostly ignored me. When I decided to marry Joffrey, he screamed at my family that they were allowing me to deceive the Lannisters by saying I was a virgin. I was so angry at him for that. My father...had no idea. He wanted to drive up here with his gun because he thought you wouldn’t marry me and I had to tell him that...that it was my choice.” She groaned. “I’ve made such a mess of everything. I was selfish and stupid and my decisions have put everyone in danger.”

 

Robb tilted her face up to his. “Enough. Ya can’t change what happened. I can’t change it. Gettin’ all upset ain’t good for you. The truth is we’re together. That’s the important part. You’re pregnant with our babe. And we’re gonna be married soon. Those are all good things.”

 

“But the Lannisters and the Boltons are after us. They want to hurt us and it’s because of me.”

 

“My father ain’t dead cause a’ you. This started long before your marriage to Joffrey.” He kissed her hands. “Believe me when I tell you that this was probably comin’ for us in some way. Dany and Jon gettin’ involved and Ramsay...that woulda brought a lotta this down on us. It ain’t all you, alright? Jon asked me if you were worth dyin’ for, and even though I feel an overwhelming obligation to my family, I would do anythin’ to protect you. I love you. I always have and I always will. Even when I was so mad at ya I wanted to hit somethin’ until it felt as bad as I did...I still loved you.”

 

She sat up in the bed and hugged him. His heart ached to feel her hot tears against his neck. He rubbed his hands over her back, relishing in her warmth and love. “I love you, Robb. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you,” she whispered.

 

He pressed a kiss to her temple then released her. “They should be done with Rickon. I’ll be back,” he said as he kissed her lips then stood. He grabbed an extra set of clothes and made his way into the bathroom.

 

He had just settled into the tub when the door opened and Margaery came in. “You alright?” he asked as she stared at him for a minute. But then she stripped her gown over her head, kicked her drawers to the side and removed her brassiere. She climbed into the tub with him, a leg on each side of his hips as she sat. Her arms went around his neck and her mouth pressed against his. He gripped her hips then moved one hand to her cheek and broke the kiss. “Ya need to rest.”

 

She shook her head. “I  _ need _ you,” she whispered. 

 

He gave her a soft smile. “Ya got me.” She kissed him again and he moved his wet hands along her body, her skin growing hot beneath his touch. He kissed a line down her throat. He hadn’t intended to stay in the tub except to get himself clean and hadn’t put much water in it. The sloshing of them moving around seemed to echo off the tile walls and when his fingers slipped between her legs to find her wet, she let out a loud moan. A loud banging on the wall beside them startled them both, then they broke into laughter. Apparently, Bronn had turned in for the night and wasn't pleased with their antics. 

 

She sat back on his thighs, still smiling. She raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded. “I’ll work on the walls,” he finally relented.

 

She climbed from the tub and while she dried off, Robb made quick work of washing himself. He didn't bother toweling off before donning his clothes and following her from the bathroom. He had her in his arms again before the door closed. She pulled him with her to the bed and both quickly stripped out of their clothes, their mouths finding each other with hot, needy kisses. She climbed over him as soon as he lay on the bed. 

 

He slid his fingers through her folds, feeling her legs tighten at his sides, relishing in her moan, but he was quick to press a finger to her lips, telling her to be quiet. Instead, she sucked it into her mouth, her blue eyes challenging him and he nearly let out a moan himself. He took hold of his cock and rubbed it through her folds, then slid inside her, bringing her mouth to his to silence both of them. She braced her hands beside his head, both taking several seconds to catch their breath. She gave him a small smile then leaned forward and kissed him again as he slid his hands over her hips and up her back. He had to break away when she started to move. He leaned up and kissed down her neck to the tops of her breasts. He didn’t dare do more than that, afraid of causing her pain.

 

She sped up, riding him harder, and he bit back a groan, his hands gripping her thighs and sliding over her hips to her ass. She whimpered as he thrust up to meet her and his fingers found their way to her folds. He brought her mouth back to his, swallowing her cries as he teased her nub. He was already so close he knew when she came he wouldn’t be able to hold it off. She gripped his wrist and her back bowed as she came, her body clenching around him. He was lost to her, bracing his feet on the bed as he thrust into her, hard and fast, her still shaking around him. They both collapsed onto the bed in an exhausted tangle. 

 

She tucked her head beneath his chin and traced her fingers over the bite mark she’d left on his shoulder. “Sorry,” she whispered.

 

He shook his head. “No ya ain’t,” he chuckled. “And don’t be. I like it when ya let it out like that.”

 

She lifted her head and smiled down at him. “You bring it out of me.” She traced her fingers through his hair. “I love you, Robb. And I  _ love _ how you love me.”

 

He slid his fingers over her spine. “You make it easy, darlin’.” 

 

She laid her head back on his shoulder and heaved a sigh. “I’ll get up in a minute, but I want you to wrap your arms around me and hold me for a while.”

 

He did just as she wanted and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Tywin
> 
> Wednesday


	17. Sooner or Later God'll Cut You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From pressure from his family, Tywin is forced to deal with a difficult situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this will not be a regular thing, we thought we would post it mid-week. The truth is, for what's coming, this had to be written.
> 
> Thank you to Meisie and Frost who read over this chapter for us. It was imperative that we get Tywin's voice right and they did a lot to help us with that.
> 
> The gorgeous mood board for this chapter was made by the lovely justwanderingneverlost and the song used for this chapter is by the man in black, Johnny Cash. I listened to this song on repeat as I wrote it.

**TRIGGER WARNING FOR VIOLENCE**

**TYWIN**

_You can run on for a long time_  
_Run on for a long time_  
_Run on for a long time_  
_Sooner or later God'll cut you down_  
_Sooner or later God'll cut you down_  
_Go tell that long tongue liar_  
_Go and tell that midnight rider_  
_Tell the rambler_  
_The gambler_  
_The back biter_  
_Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down_  
_Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down_  
_Well my goodness gracious let me tell you the news_  
_My head's been wet with the midnight dew_  
_I've been down on bended knee talkin' to the man from Galilee_  
_He spoke to me in the voice so sweet_  
_I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel's feet_  
_He called my name and my heart stood still_  
_When he said, "John, go do my will!"_  
_Go tell that long tongue liar_  
_Go and tell that midnight rider_  
_Tell the rambler_  
_The gambler_  
_The back biter_  
_Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down_  
_Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down_  
_You can run on for a long time_  
_Run on for a long time_  
_Run on for a long time_  
_Sooner or later God'll cut you down_  
_Sooner or later God'll cut you down_  
_Well, you may throw your rock and hide your hand_  
_Workin' in the dark against your fellow man_  
_But as sure as God made black and white_  
_What's down in the dark will be brought to the light_  
_You can run on for a long time_  
_Run on for a long time_  
_Run on for a long time_  
_Sooner or later God'll cut you down_  
_Sooner or later God'll cut you down_  
_Go tell that long tongue liar_  
_Go and tell that midnight rider_  
_Tell the rambler_  
_The gambler_  
_The back biter_  
_Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down_  
_Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down_ _  
_ Tell 'em that God's gonna cut you down

 

_God’s Gonna Cut You Down_ **_  
_ ** **_Johnny Cash_ **

 

**TYWIN**

 

He watched as Jaime paced his study, the image of a caged lion. His eyes followed his feet as they wore a path over his Persian rug. He ground his teeth.

 

His eldest son had always been an exemplary representative of their family. He’d married a fine woman who had tragically died three years before but left him two beautiful children. Myrcella was loving and sweet, the opposite of his _own_ daughter–who turned out to be a raving mad woman who refused to learn her place. Tommen was a soft boy, but he was still young. He had years to grow into the strong example of the Lannister he would need to be to carry on his family’s prestigious legacy.

 

His other son, the disgrace that he was, sat in a chair facing him with a drink in hand. As always, the little monster had the audacity to look at him with contempt, as if this was somehow his fault. He dismissed Tyrion’s poor view of him and went back to watching Jaime. Tyrion was hardly worth a thought at it was.

 

However, he had to admit when he’d heard what Ramsay had done, he had needed a drink to calm his own nerves. Everyone knew the Boltons were linked to his family. He'd even heard from Stannis that someone in the angry crowd of parents had suggested nothing could be done because _Bolton was in his pocket._

 

He rapped his fingers on his desk, his irritation growing. “Jaime, I suggest you calm down.”

 

His son stopped and faced him, his green eyes hard and cold. The normal easy smirk that always seemed to grace his face was gone. “ _Calm down?”_ he snarled, “My daughter wakes up crying every night, clutching the front of her nightgown because she _swears_ a man that happens to be working _for you_ has sliced it open with a fucking knife. She’s terrified of coming _here_ because she’s seen Ramsay walk out your door.” He rushed forward, bracing his hands on the desk and leaning close, his face snarled. “You want to know why your grandchildren aren’t visiting you? _That’s why,”_ he hissed and then returned to his pacing.

 

Tyrion remained silent, which was strange for the little monster, but as much as he loathed him, he had to admit he had a shrewd mind. Tywin turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure you have thoughts?”

 

He nodded his ratty, unkempt head. “Yes, but drawing and quartering are a bit old-fashioned.”

 

Tywin rolled his eyes. “I’m not in the mood for your jokes.”

 

His eyebrows disappeared beneath his mop of hair. “I wasn’t entirely joking,” he responded coldly. “What happened to that woman in front of those children could have been far worse if your own granddaughter hadn’t been the intelligent young lady she is.” He shook his head and frowned. Swallowed down the rest of his drink. “None of them should have been exposed to that, much less our sweet cub, Myrcella. She's too young to know the horrible nature of men. So, when I suggest torture for that creature and his lapdog, I’m not feeling generous enough to say I’m joking.”

 

Tywin stood and walked over to his liquor caddy, his frustration reaching dangerous levels. He poured himself a brandy, consuming it in one swallow, then poured another. As the warmth spread throughout his chest he looked out over his estate. Beautiful rolling mountains, acre upon acre of trees painted in every shade of sunset, the lake below reflecting it all. His home, his land, _his legacy..._ the crown jewel in an otherwise pitiful excuse of a state. A brilliant diamond twinkling amongst the coal dust. But someone had left their nasty fingerprints all over it. It was time that was corrected.

 

He sniffed and glanced over his shoulder at his youngest. “You believe a punishment is in order.”

 

Jaime let out a derisive scoff, answering for his brother. “You can’t teach someone who’s insane _not_ to be insane. I think we can all attest to that.” Tywin thought about his daughter and her current predicament. The asylum she lived in, that _he_ had put her in. He knew well that madness couldn’t be controlled with words. “But a punishment is required,” Jaime continued, “As your son, the father of your grandchildren, I demand it.”

 

Tywin drank down the contents of his glass and refilled it again before walking back to his chair behind his desk. “You _do_ realize that the girl is tangled up with those revolting Starks, don’t you?”

 

Jaime stepped forward and slammed his hand onto the desk. “I don’t give a good goddamn about your vendetta against the Starks! My daughter is terrified. My son is terrified. They know he works for you and are therefore terrified of _you!_ You need to fix this! If you don’t, I won’t be responsible for what _I_ do.”

 

At that, he stormed from the study, slamming the door behind him, leaving him alone with Tyrion. They both sat quietly for a while until the silence began to grate on his nerves. “Let’s have it,” he prodded.

 

Tyrion shrugged and sipped at his drink. “You’ve worked a long time to build your empire. You’ve put the right people in the right places. It would be a shame if all of that tumbled down because you had a loose cannon that blew holes in your ship.”

 

He hated this had happened in front of Myrcella and Tommen. In normal circumstances, he never would’ve allowed an act like this to go unchecked. But he needed the Boltons and loathed the Starks. He would try to reason with Tyrion, knowing the little beast had sway with his older brother. “Your brother is being unreasonable.”

 

“Is he?” Tyrion’s aghast look and the shrill pitch to his voice caused his own conscious to prick at him. “This is _Myrcella_ . The little girl who calls you Papa and sits on your knee and begs you to tell her stories. Believes you could slay dragons and were king of the world.” Tywin looked down at his glass, pain centering square in his chest. “Now, she believes you’re supportive of a man who tried to hurt her teacher who has been nothing but kind to her. A woman who seems to be loved by the community. Her association with the Starks doesn’t matter to Myrcella. All she knows is that the man who terrorized them is associated with _you_.”

 

Tywin eyed his son for a moment, feeling that old flame of hate and resentment bubble up into his throat, but choked it down as he had so many times before. He was far too intelligent to cast his ideas and opinions off as nothing. And besides, he was a Lannister.

 

“Perhaps Ramsay and Locke should be taught to understand that I give the orders.”

 

“The fact that they don’t already know that is what’s truly surprising.”

 

This time he could not swallow his hatred down. “Do _you_ understand that?”

 

Tyrion lifted his head. Disappointment was in his mismatched eyes, not fear. Tywin stared him down, unwilling to be made to feel inferior by a malformed little monster.

 

“I know exactly who’s in charge, Father. I’ve always known.”

 

“Then explain to me why _you_ associate with the Starks.”

 

His head tilted a small smile on his face. “I happen to have a soft spot for cripples, bastards, and broken things. I think the Starks fit that criteria rather well, don’t you?”

 

Tywin scoffed, turning in his chair to look out the window again. “Everything is a joke to you.”

 

“It’s not,” Tyrion replied, voice hard. “Myrcella and Tommen are my family and I love them more than anything. If your vendetta against the Starks is so important that it trumps the trauma they suffered, then maybe you aren’t really as concerned with your family and its legacy as you claim,” he challenged.

 

He’d heard enough. He stood and made his way to Tyrion's side, standing over him, looking down on him like the stain he was. “Perhaps you should remember where your loyalties lie. I know the Starks deliver to you. That _my_ money is paying for one of your many disgusting habits. Is it your sole mission in life to embarrass me?”

 

The little cretin wasn't cowed, much to Tywin’s chagrin. Tyrion laid his head back against his chair and shook it slowly, frowning up at him. “Interesting how this has suddenly become my fault.”

 

He managed to restrain himself from picking him up and throwing him across the room.

 

“I’m sorry to remind you, Father, but I wasn’t the one that threatened the schoolmarm with a knife and rape in front of children. I’m sure you’ll find a fitting way to deal with this problem. But remember, the longer you take, the longer Ramsay and Locke believe their actions are tolerable. You wouldn’t want the rest of the rabble you employ to get the notion you’re growing soft and they can do as they wish. What would happen to the mighty Tywin Lannister, Lord of all he surveys, if the dogs begin to think they aren’t beholden to the lion?” He hopped off his chair and placed the empty glass back on the liquor cart, then grabbed his hat and put it on, tipping it at him. “I’ll show myself out.”

 

*~*

 

His temples throbbed as he read over the article. Finding the newest legislation being proposed only served to make the pain worse, but read it a second time just to make sure.

 

He folded it up and threw it on his desk with a curse. His distaste for the lower class trying to push their liberal agendas on him made his skin crawl and his blood boil. He had built his family up from the laughing stock it had been when his father and grandfather had been in charge. He remembered being a young boy, watching men come back from the Civil War, heads hanging in defeat. Then the slaves had been released, and he cried like the stupid little boy he was, watching his family’s slaves walk barefooted from the mansion, his mammy waving goodbye.

 

It was a simple _fact_ there were people that were just… _less_ than him and his family.

 

He hated that his son even allowed his grandchildren to socialize with the rabble of the town. They should be in the best boarding school, preferably abroad, with other children of their social rank and sophistication. But Jaime had an idealistic streak, at times, no matter how Tywin had tried to stamp it out. As such, his grandchildren were being exposed on a daily basis to the poor, the riff-raff, the _Starks_.

 

Those meddlesome, poverty-stricken dogs. Losing their father had taught them _nothing_. Of course, the two older boys were the true troublemakers. On the very edge of starving to death and those buffoons had managed to find a way to salvage their pathetic lives.

 

He laid back in his chair and rubbed his temples, allowing himself a weary sigh.

 

How he missed the old days. So many issues solved simply, without the messiness of things like trials and stropped up judges. It was cheaper to just lynch a dissident, or shoot a man who dared insult your family, rather than bribing and threatening a whole jury.

 

The Starks now had the loyalty of the town after that failed raid on their property–and the wailings of Olenna Tyrell, the crafty old bird. He thought they would have an alliance and sever the knot that was going to join the great house of Tyrell to a lowly den of the Starks. His grandson would’ve been linked to the most beautiful girl in all the county, she would have received the lifestyle she was accustomed to, and Robb Stark would've become bereft and his family would fall apart with him. It had been the _perfect_ plan. Until his fool of a grandson had fucked it all up.

 

Even dangling the news of Loras’s elicit evenings with Renly Baratheon hadn’t been enough to get Olenna back on his side. Not after Joffrey put his hands on the girl. If Tywin knew anything, he knew that such behavior would not be tolerated. He didn’t push Olenna, lean on her as much as he might have, because part of him knew Joffrey wouldn’t survive the ordeal. Olenna would have seen to his death. The old bat never would have let go of what happened to her granddaughter. He _had_ hoped the divorce was enough to satisfy her.

 

No matter, it could still be salvaged. Even after the scandal of the divorce and why, Joffrey was still a top prospect amongst the elite in the state, while Margaery was seen as used goods who could do no better than the mangy mongrel that inhabited that mountain.

 

Just then his servant entered with the mail, and Tywin waved him off, eager to return to his seething in peace. He heaved a deep sigh– another letter from Cersei. No doubt begging him to let her come back home. He threw the letter in the trash can. The crazy brat had nearly unraveled everything.

 

Baratheon had been a bumbling fool on the best of days, he never should’ve gotten the information he did. But Cersei, in her ill-conceived attempt to hurt her husband, whispered and weaved tales about her father's corruption in Robert's ear night after night. Telling him of just how many senators, constables, and more that he had lining his deep pockets. She had even taken it a step further, naming those Tywin could use to intimidate, should Robert do anything with the information. But Tywin knew his daughter. Cersei's betrayal was meant to be a knife in _his_ back. She'd never forgiven him for marrying her off to a dolt and drunkard like Robert.  

 

He sipped at his tea, finding it lacked the sort of bite he needed to get rid of his headache. He added a splash of brandy.

 

Robert, the idiot, had the reputation of mud despite his social standing. Everyone knew he was a lecher and a drunk. But Ned Stark had been neither of those things. Tywin had never heard anyone, in all his years, utter an unfavorable word against Ned Stark. His reputation was pristine, his word undeniable. And Robert was going to take everything his wretched daughter had told him and go straight to good ole’ Ned to make waves. If people didn’t believe Robert, they were _sure_ to believe Eddard Stark.

 

It was a nasty business, getting the two of them together, staging it to look as if they had shot one another. And then there had been Cersei’s _mourning_. Finding an institution that was both luxurious enough for a woman of her birth, but also very tight-lipped, proved almost as difficult, but he had done it as he always did, and had simply waved it away as women’s hysteria to the few concerned citizens who inquired after her. His daughter was never well liked.

 

Things had been going so well.

 

Now, he wished he had wiped out the entire Tyrell family. Robb Stark and Jon Snow, the bastard of Ned’s whore sister, had wasted no time in telling everyone that would listen that their father would never kill Robert, nor Robert Ned, not ever. Then Robert’s bastard showed up from out of nowhere, claiming his father thought of Ned as a brother, not just a friend, and had letters to prove it.

 

It was still speculation on the part of the town. He'd made sure no one could ever prove Ned and Robert _hadn't_ offed one another. But, he couldn’t have anyone come around and start digging either. The best way to silence a wagging tongue was to pull it out by the roots like a weed, after all.

 

His servant entered the room again, stopping in the doorway. “Mister Roose Bolton here to see you, Sir.”

 

“Send him in,” he ordered and sat up in his chair as one of his oldest associates entered the room, taking off his hat. The two shook hands and took up their respective seats.

 

Roose sat and cleared his throat. “I came as soon as I got your message. What can I do for you, Tywin?”

 

“How long have you and I known one another, Roose?”

 

“As long as I can remember. Before Ramsay was born,” he said. He began spinning his hat in his hands.

 

Tywin heaved a sigh. “Yes. You’ve been loyal all those years, too. I never have to guess where I stand with you.” He shook his head and frowned. “This isn’t about you, not really. It’s about your son.” Roose’s face paled. He swallowed hard, the hat going still. “You heard about the incident at the schoolhouse?”

 

“I know Locke had a broken nose from that bitch’s elbow.”

 

“Do you know what actually happened or only what your son told you?”

 

Roose shifted in his chair, his brow furrowed. “You believe some woman over my son.”

 

He shook his head. “No. I believe my _grandchildren_ over your son,” he said gruffly. “Myrcella and Tommen go to that school and your son has caused them undue stress.”

 

“Unintentional.”

 

He ground his teeth together. He’d prefer Roose come to the conclusion his son deserved punishment on his own but would force it on him if necessary. “Unintentional or not, your son traumatized my grandchildren. And according to the members of this town, crossed the line in his assault against Miss Storm.”

 

Roose sat forward, his scowl livid. “She’s the reason he was beaten to a pulp at the social by that bastard Snow. She had it coming.”

 

“Perhaps.” He leaned his elbows on his desk, tapping his pen as he stared at his associate. _Tap, slide, tap, slide._ It didn't take long for Roose to shrink back into his chair. “Then again, I’m not willing to sacrifice the peace of mind of my family for your son’s retribution.”

 

Roose was quiet for a moment, staring at his hat. He was spinning it again. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“We teach him what happens when he steps out of line. Bring him here tonight, at eight. You’ll stay as well.”

 

Roose ran a hand over his face. It was shaking. “This could make him worse.”

 

“You had better hope it doesn’t. Now, I have things to do this morning” He stood up and walked to the door, opening it for his friend. As he passed, appearing sufficiently nervous, he placed a hand on his shoulder. “By eight, Roose.”

 

*~*

 

He didn’t know how Roose had managed to get Ramsay and Locke to the house without a fight, nor did he care. The fact that the man was willing to go along with offering his son over for punishment was rewarding enough. A sort of thrill went through him to know his control over a man like Roose was so absolute he would willingly bring his own son in for what he knew would be a beating. _That_ was true power.

 

He had sent word to Jaime that he was handling the issue that night and invited him to join if he liked. He'd hoped he would, prove his loyalty to the family, but, as usual, he had opted out. Tywin’s resulting disappointment only amplified his distaste for how soft Jaime had become. He knew that if it had been _Tyrion’s_ children, the imp would’ve been there. He may hate the little monster, but at least he knew Tyrion’s vicious streak would have seen justice doled out.

 

Tywin greeted his guests in his parlor... and even had his servant offer them all drinks. He lit a cigarette, giving Polliver, Meryn, Amory, and Ilyn time enough to fall into position to grab them.

 

Roose looked increasingly uncomfortable. Unable to sit still, hands fidgeting. Tywin eyed him until he stilled. When Joffrey joined them he would begin his... interrogation. He was going to teach both boys a very valuable lesson.

 

Tywin cleared his throat as his grandson entered sulkily and looked at Ramsay. The smirk on the young man’s face always managed to look cunning, his eyes taking everything in. Tywin appreciated a hired hand that seemingly had no conscience. But there were... boundaries, even for depravity, that needed enforcing. He wondered if the boy had any suspicion what was about to happen to him.

 

Tywin took a long pull of his cigarette and blew the smoke toward him. “I heard about the dust-up at the school.”

 

Ramsay tilted his head. He was one to control his responses. He never would have shouted in court, lost his temper as Joffrey had. “Some women don’t know when to keep their mouths closed. And after the beating I suffered at the hand of that bastard Snow, I figured a little retribution was in order.”

 

“ _You_ figured?”

 

At that question, Ramsay’s eyes widened, only a fraction. They darted around the room, taking in each face. Every one of them focused on him. It appeared the boy had caught on. Those blue eyes came back to Tywin, flashing with a spark of defiance. Tywin drank down the rest of his drink.

 

“See, that was your first mistake, Ramsay. Do you know what your actions have caused? That girl is inconsequential to what is happening here, yet, you might have ruined any sort of support that we could have built against the Starks and that bastard of theirs.” He took another pull of his cigarette and exhaled, hoping it would calm his nerves. He hated dealing with stupidity. “You threatened that girl in front of _children_.”

 

“She sent the children inside,” Locke defended but was quickly silenced as Tywin cut his eyes at him.

 

He looked at Ramsay once more. “Did you happen to notice that my granddaughter and grandson were amongst those children?”

 

Locke’s breathing increased as Ramsay visibly paled. “I did not. Please forgive my oversight.”

 

Tywin tapped out his cigarette and stood. “I don't think so. Not this time.” He gave a small nod of his head and Ramsay and Locke were both forcefully pulled from their chairs, kicking and swearing as they were dragged out of the room. “Come along, Joffrey. Time you see what happens when you don’t do as you’re told.”

 

Joffrey and Roose followed him to the cellar. Ramsay had just been delivered a gut punch by Meryn when they entered, sending him to his knees on the dirty floor. Locke was sent down right behind him. Tywin allowed himself a small smile. It almost appeared as if they were bowing at his feet.

 

Ramsay looked up at his father, his eyes narrowed with hate as he gasped for air. “You knew this was coming.”

 

“You forgot the one rule, son: don’t piss off Tywin,” he said coldly.

 

“Meryn, you and the boys teach them a lesson. Leave them alive and able to walk out of here, but teach them.”

 

Polliver and Illyn closed in on Locke, striking his already broken nose first. Blood spurted across the floor as he screamed. Ramsay caught a boot to the face from Amory, covering his head as he hit the ground. Meryn joined his friend, laying into him with swift and brutal kicks. Their boots were steel toed, Tywin had approved the expense himself. Muffled grunts and cries filled the room, mixing with the satisfying smacks of fists meeting flesh.

 

Tywin watched, stoic and unmoving, as his men stomped the two into submission. Eventually, he glanced over at his grandson. The boy appeared conflicted– glee then distress flickering across his face, as quickly as a child's pinwheel spins. He knew Ramsay and Joffrey weren’t the best of friends, but they did seem to share a kinship in other’s pain and suffering. This was for the best. Ramsay might have been able to lead his grandson further astray than he already was.

 

“Do you understand why this is happening, Joffery?”

 

He cut his eyes to him and nodded. “Because they didn’t ask.”

 

“You’re partially correct. They didn’t ask. But worse, their actions turned some of the townsfolk against us. We don’t concern ourselves with the sheep, but we understand they’re easier to control if they’re happy,” he replied. “This is about family as well. Your cousins were traumatized by what they did. Your uncles demanded justice. We serve it.”

 

Joffery sneered. “This is because some brats got scared?” he mocked.

 

Tywin grabbed him by the nape of his neck and pulled him close. “They’re family and family is all you have. You have a habit of disobeying me, much like your crazy mother,” he whispered. “I want you to understand this, Joffrey. You will do exactly what I tell you when I tell you. If you don’t...” he looked to the two men on the ground still being pummelled. “You’re my grandson, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have you _taught_ a lesson as well.”

 

He released him and Joffrey rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped away, avoiding his gaze.

 

Tywin allowed the beating go on until he was certain the lesson had taken hold before he held up his hand. The men stopped. He gestured to Meryn to pick Ramsay up. He drug him to his feet before walking him over to stand before Tywin.

 

He’d been given a proper beating, his face bruised and quickly swelling. Blood dripped from his eyes, nose, and mouth. “Stay away from the school. If I hear you've gone near it again, I’ll let my men use weapons next time. I will not tolerate disobedience from anyone. Do you understand?”

 

Ramsay didn't speak but nodded his head. Tywin motioned for Meryn to let him go and he fell to the floor with a groan.

 

He knew he had to give them another task to occupy them. Their bloodlust for the beating wouldn’t be easily satisfied, they'd seek retribution. It would require more than just the two of them tormenting the school teacher, and satisfy his needs as well. Something that would bring him closer to his goal of destroying the Starks and the bastard Snow.

 

“Now, you’ll clean yourselves up and tomorrow we’ll begin anew. I have a job I'll need your help with. Something you're both sure to enjoy.”

 

Roose took a deep breath and reached to help Ramsay stand, only for his son to jerk away. The boy and his lackey stumbled to their feet and started for the cellar door.

 

Tywin’s voice stopped him, “Ramsay. I meant what I said. Don’t do anything stupid. If you, your friend, or your father cause me a problem again, I will handle it.” Ramsay’s eyes flashed with... _something_ , but Tywin had a feeling it wasn’t fear. “Go home,” he commanded.

 

He turned to the others in the room and sighed. “Roose, see your boy home and make sure he’s here in the morning. Meryn, bring in Alliser and Gregor. We need to discredit the Starks before we can eliminate them. It’s time we got more aggressive.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will return to our regularly scheduled posting on Sunday with a new chapter from Jon.


	18. I’ll Find A Way To Make Up For Your Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon makes a horrific discovery in Daenerys's house. Plans for safety are put into place. Jon has an encounter with an enemy that leaves him rattled emotionally and physically. Jon and Dany talk about the future and what it means for their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **MILD VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER**
> 
>  
> 
> I'm just labeling to make sure.
> 
> The gorgeous mood board was made by justwanderingneverlost. 
> 
> We were relieved to see the (can we call it positive?) response to our Tywin chapter. We wanted to lay down some groundwork in giving you his motivations so you will hopefully understand that this goes beyond Margaery. 
> 
> I also want to give a shout out to my writing partner for being so amazing! She makes this story worth reading, in my opinion. She's the best!!

**JON**

_ End of the line, tell me your story _ __  
_ The truth and the lies, you've been told _ __  
_ There goes the night, there'll be another _ __  
_ So darling you don't have to go _ __  
_ We will, oh we will _ __  
_ Step out of the light and live like shadows _ __  
_ And where you go I'll follow _ __  
_ And I won't be no trouble _ __  
_ I'll be the spark that feeds your fire _ __  
_ And watch your flames grow higher _ __  
_ And I won't, no I won't _ __  
_ Let this fire go out _ __  
  


_ For all that was lost, for all that was broken _ __  
_ I’ll find a way to make up for your pain _ __  
_ I know it’s hard to rebuild these ruins _ __  
_ But think of the life we could make _ __  
_ We will, oh we will _ __  
_ Step out of the light and live like shadows _ __  
_ And where you go I'll follow _ __  
_ And I won't be no trouble _ __  
_ I'll be the spark that feeds your fire _ __  
_ And watch your flames grow higher _ __  
  


_ And I won't, no I won't _ __  
_ Let this fire go _ __  
_ I won't, I won't let this fire _ __  
_ Step out of the light and live like shadows _ __  
_ And where you go I'll follow _ __  
_ And I won't no I won't _ __  
_ I'll be the spark that feeds your fire _ __  
_ And watch your flames grow higher _ __  
_ And I won't, no I won't _ __  
_ Let this fire go out _ __  
  


_ This Fire  
_ **_Sawyer Fredericks_ **

 

 

They watched Rickon race toward the schoolhouse, both leaning against the truck, putting off their goodbye. He was reluctant to part from her after another glorious weekend of having her around constantly. Not only was he thankful for her presence, but his family had liked having her there as well. And he didn't have words for how that made him feel.

 

The boys relished her attention. Rickon finally having to be told by Jon himself he couldn’t sleep in the bed with them every night she was there. His little brother had pouted but she’d taken him by the hand and redirected him to one of the books she’d brought for Bran and tucked him into his own bed.

 

As for Bran, he stayed out of his room more when she was there. They discussed literature and history at length. She'd even offered him some of the advanced papers she was giving some of her older students. He could tell his brother liked being included, but not feeling singled out. Dany treated him just as she did anyone else.

 

And his sister seemed to have found a like-minded independent free spirit in Dany. Instead of the dislike she had for Margaery, she took to her. She'd spent quite a bit of time with the pair as a result. And Dany’s easy nature was beginning to rub off on Arya. It did his heart good to see all three women talking and even laughing together. She kept so much of herself closed off to everyone but Gendry, it was nice to see her open up. 

 

His brother and Margaery both loved having her around too. It didn't take long for Robb to realize Dany had the ability to make him blush better than anyone, so he had quite a bit of fun sitting back and laughing at him whenever she did it. Dany often had helpful hints for Margaery and her pregnancy woes. And even though he caught the hint of sadness around her eyes in those moments, it always disappeared before it could linger too long. Margaery was infinitely happy to have another female presence at the house and their pasts were very similar. Unfortunate as that was, it gave them a stepping off point to bond, and their friendship seemed to grow with each passing minute they spent together. 

 

Being lost with her on their mountain, letting them all grow close and comfortable had done more to fill Jon with love for her than anything else could have. She was quickly becoming part of his family as they had embraced her as firmly as she had them.

 

“Do you know I’m addicted to how you smell, Jon Snow?” she whispered as she turned and linked her arms around him, nuzzling into his neck. “Like pine, snow, and wolf.”

 

He did the same to her, taking little nips of her skin between his lips. “Lass, why do ya think I’ve got ya so close to me right now? I wanna smell ya the rest of the day.”

 

She leaned up and kissed him softly. “You need to leave before I drag you into my house.”

 

He chuffed, brushing her nose with his. “Have a good day then. I’ll see ya later,” he said pressing one last kiss to her lips. 

 

She stepped away from him and started toward the school, then turned back, looking a bit surprised. “My suitcase.”

 

He gave her a nod. “I’ll take it in for ya.” 

 

Her smile caused him to ache in the best of ways.

 

“Always such a gentleman.” She walked backward a few steps then finally turned and made her way to the schoolhouse. 

 

He shook himself free of her lovely web, knowing he had other things he needed to do that day and spending it dazed would only cause Robb and Bronn to get on his case. 

 

He climbed into the truck and pulled around the back of her house. Grabbing the suitcase he headed to the back porch, jogging up the few steps. He stopped cold. Her back door was open. Even though the screen he could tell it’d been kicked in, the latch was hanging from the door jam. Heart hammering in his chest he sat the suitcase down, quiet and slow, and drew his gun as he pulled open the screen door, gentle as he could. He held in a curse as it squealed, then waited, barely breathing, straining to hear any response from inside the house. When none came he stepped into the porch, the crunch and crack of glass grim beneath his boots. 

 

Her kitchen was destroyed. The table broken, base turned over on its side, top in pieces, all the chairs too. Shattered dishes littered every surface, the cabinet doors ripped off or hanging from broken hinges, curtains torn. 

 

He searched each room, every one worse than the one before, the rage growing inside him quickly reaching a boiling point. But it was her bedroom that sent him rushing from the house and straight to the Sheriff’s office. He wanted someone to see it all before he went on a killing spree.

 

*~*

 

Davos looked as stunned as he’d felt when he’d seen it. He took him through the whole house, the old man swearing and cursing at each new sight of destruction. He saved Dany’s bedroom for last. All her clothes had been ripped to shreds and thrown about. The mattress and bedding obliterated. Her pictures shattered, and even her changing screen slashed into no use. But the worst, what made Jon’s blood boil with blinding fury was the word  _ whore _ painted in giant red letters above her broken bed.

 

Davos stormed out of the room, Jon hot on his heels only to nearly collided with the older man when he abruptly stopped. “When was she here last?” 

 

“Friday afternoon. Convinced her to come stay with me over the weekend, and good thing I did. I just wanted you to see it ‘fore I hunt down those sick fuckers and kill em,” he told him as he walked to the back door, headed for the truck.

 

Davos grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “Ya can’t do that, boy!”

 

Jon jerked out of his hold. “The hell I can’t!” he snarled. “Ya know they did it! You've seen it, been through the whole house! All a’ her things destroyed! Her clothes! Her bed! What they painted on the wall! And I’m supposed to let em get away with it!?”

 

Davos bunched his shirt up in his fists and shook him. “You’re supposed to fuckin’ think, Jon! This is to taunt you as much as her! You go after em, and you’ll find em waitin’ for ya. Then you’ll be the one to die. Where will she be then, huh?”

 

He grabbed at his wrists, trying to shove him off. “If you won't let me kill em, then arrest em for it!”

 

“I got no proof!” Davos let him go, turning to pace the kitchen. “I never fuckin’ have enough proof,” he sighed and face him again. “Don’t you think I wanted to send Ramsay away for years for what he did to poor Jeyne? I can’t fuckin’ touch em, and neither can you. Anythin’ you do right now only puts her, and you, in more danger.”

 

That wasn't good enough, not nearly good enough. “So, we sit back and take it!?”

 

“Yes! For now!” Davos hollered back, then hung his head, another heavy sigh leaving him. He rubbed a hand over his weary face before looking up at him, his faded blue eyes begging. “I’m sorry, Jon. I want to help ya. Ya know I do. But I can't let ya go after Ramsay and Locke. This was a baited trap. They’re just waitin’ for you to walk into it and I won't let a good man like you give your life away over shit like them. I’ll lock ya up if I have ta.”

 

Jon closed his eyes and let his head fall back, beating it against the door frame. A pitiful attempt at venting the maddening frustration coursing through him, but needed all the same. “What the hell am I supposed to do, Davos? I’ve tried to pull away from her to protect her, but she fights me on it, which I can’t say I’m unhappy about, but I can’t protect her here and take care of my family up there! She’s not even safe in her classroom! So, tell me, what I'm supposed to do!?”

 

Davos hung his head, looking as helpless as Jon felt. “I’ll talk to the neighbors, doubt it’ll help much. But let me do some investigatin’ and see if any of em saw anythin’. But, understand they’re more an likely not gonna say so for fear a’ what’ll happen to em. In the meantime, we’re gonna clean up as much of this as we can. You said she ain’t seen it yet. Let’s not have her see all of it.”

 

He threw his hands up, infuriated all over again, his patience long gone. “Hide it? How in the hell do we hide her bedroom? Her clothes? That fuckin’  _ word _ ?!”

 

His old friend shook his head. “We don’t. But we clean up the shattered plates, the furniture, salvage what we can. You convince her to go with you to the mountain as often as you can for her safety...or you stay here with her. We both know Ramsay ain’t gonna stop. I can’t do anything without a witness, but I'd rather him not  _ do _ anything. If you're together, Lord willin’ he won't. So, c’mon, help me fix her living room and we’ll go from there. I think I can save her coffee table. I’ll take it home with me, see what I can do.”

 

Jon drew in a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to have Ramsay pinned beneath him again, taking his rage out on his face and damn the consequences. But he followed Davos into the living room and helped him right her sofa then the end tables. 

 

*~*

 

Arya showed up mid-morning, scaring him and Davos nearly out of their skin, both of them pulling their guns when she’d walked up behind them.

 

“Well, now I know why you ain't home,” she quipped, as he took a few breaths to calm his racing heart and shoved his gun back in his britches. She gave him a regretful look, but there was fury lighting her grey eyes as well. She took off toward the living room, her footfalls heavy and echoing through the house. 

 

Then all fell silent. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, waiting for what he knew was coming.

 

“That son of a bitch!” She was back in the kitchen before her shriek had faded from his ears. “Ramsay did this.” It wasn't a question.

 

He nodded and went back to bagging up broken dishes while Davos patted her shoulder. “We all know who did it, but gettin’ all bent out a’ shape ain't gonna help. I’ll tell ya like I told–”

 

“What’re you doin’ here helpin’ him, Sheriff?” she cut him off. “Tell me you got em locked up already.”

 

Davos shook his head. “We don't have proof or believe me I would. This is the best I can do right now,” he told her, going back to his sweeping.

 

“Bullshit!”

 

Jon dropped the bag of garbage and went to her, feeling more weary than he had in an age. “I appreciate it, but don't, alright?”

 

“Don't what?” she snapped. “They need stringing up, Jon! And you know it. Three times now they’ve come after her. How many more times you gonna let em ‘fore you do somethin’? You keep sittin’ by and she’ll wind up like Jeyne, or worse! I thought you loved her!”

 

He grabbed her by the wrist and drug her out the back door, her kicking up a fuss the whole way. As soon as they made it to the woods, out of sight of the house and school, he let her go, turning on her. “You think I don't know all a’ that?! And I do love her, I wouldn't be nearly outta my mind right now if I didn't!” he hissed, then stalked further into the trees, ripping the tie out of his hair and gripping handfuls of it as he paced, leaves crunching under his heavy steps. He felt like a caged animal, the frenzy he’d barely been keeping leashed gnashing at the bars to get out. “I wanna kill em, Arya,” he said, voice shaking as he spun to face her again. She stood silent, arms crossed over her chest. He walked to her, holding his hands up at her. “With my bare hands. I wanna wrap em ‘round his throat and watch the light fade from his eyes. But I can't.”

 

“Why the fuck not? If you ain't got the balls to do it, I will!”

 

He grabbed her by the arms and shook her. “No, you won't! You'll not go near him or Locke. Do you hear me?” The glare she was giving him should've killed him where he stood, but he shook her again when she didn't answer. “Promise me, Arya.”

 

“Not til’ you give me good reason,” she hissed.

 

He let her go, bracing his hands on his knees, drawing in deep breaths. His head was spinning, blood roaring in his ears, images of Arya, or Dany facing that monster on their own nearly making his breakfast come up. “If it was just me and him, it’d be one thing. But we know he won't face me alone, he’ll bring an army with him,” he told her quietly. Her feet shifted, more crunching leaves filling the silence. He stood up, forcing himself to keep it together. She'd never calm down if he didn't. “An’ it'll be an army of people that want all a’ us dead and gone, too. That, or he’ll lock me up somewhere, lure y’all in to come get me, then kill us all.”

 

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest again. “He ain't that smart.”

 

He shook his head. “I wish he wasn't, but he is, and so are the Lannister's. I hate it, I fuckin’ _ hate it, _ but we gotta be as smart as them, or smarter. We’ll die if we aren't. We got the boys to think about. We done let em down once, we can't do it again.” She drew in a deep breath and blew it out harshly, staring out into the trees. “I’ll bring her back home with me, I don't care if I gotta drag her kickin’ and screamin’. I won't leave her alone.”

 

She nodded and dug the toe of her boot beneath the leaves and into the loamy earth. “I hate this. I just want em gone. Want em to leave us be.” She turned away, her hand coming up to swipe at her face. “Why won't they just go away?”

 

Jon could stand just about anything, but seeing Arya upset, near tears, that wasn't one of them. He closed the space between them and pulled her against his chest. She stood stiff for only a moment then her skinny arms wrapped around him. “We’re gonna be alright. I don't know how yet, but we'll think a’ somethin’,” he told her. “We just have to do it together, okay? No going off alone. What’d Pa always tell us?”

 

“He told us lots a’ things,” she muttered.

 

He stepped back a bit and took her face in his hands. “The lone wolf dies…”

 

“But the pack survives,” she finished, the smallest of smiles quirking her lips up.

 

Smiling back he leaned down and kissed her forehead before putting an arm over her shoulder and walking her out of the woods. “Get back up the mountain. Tell em what's happened. I’ll have her pack up some more things and we'll be there soon as she's done. I ain't tellin’ Rickon, he’s just now calmin’ down for us, so tell em not ta say nothin’ once we get home. We can all sit down and talk it over tonight after he’s in bed.”

 

“Alright. Be careful,” she said with a wave, headed toward the car.

 

“Arya,” he called just as she reached for the door handle. “I never got that promise.”

 

Her face twisted up in a snarl. “Fine. I promise. Happy now?”

 

“Promise what?”

 

“Damn you, Jon,” she spit and rolled her eyes. “I promise I won't go after Ramsay or Locke by myself.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You ain't welcome,” she huffed, settling herself behind the wheel and starting the engine. “Hurry up and get home. All three of ya in one piece, please.”

 

“Yes, ma'am.”

 

*~*

 

When school was over, he had lined up with the other parents, leaving Davos parked behind Dany’s house, hauling out bags of broken dishes and anything else they hadn't been able to salvage. Rickon came running up to him and climbed in the truck.

 

“You’re gonna have to wait a bit, little man, I need to talk to Miss Dany.”

 

“Bout what?”

 

He forced a smile onto his face. “Grown up stuff. So, I need ya to be quiet, don’t interrupt, and sit in the middle, alright?”

 

Rickon did as he was told, his little head barely above the dashboard. Dany walked out of the schoolhouse and spoke to several of the parents, waving to the children as they left. Once everyone else was gone she headed their way, the smile she gave him nearly taking his breath. She had her hair pulled into a bun, one of her bee pins on the side, catching the light from the afternoon sun. He loved her. He was terrified for her.

 

She was frowning by the time she reached him. “What has that look on your face?” she asked softly. “You went from looking like you were happy to see me to looking like I’d kicked puppies.”

 

He sighed, his eyes cutting over to Rickon and back. “Somethin's happened. I need you to get in the truck. He don't know nothin’, so please don't ask questions.” She scowled, eyes dark with worry, but did as asked. He pulled around the back of her house. Davos was seated on the stoop outside the screened in porch. 

 

“Rickon, you stay outside with the Sheriff.”

 

Davos came up to the truck and smiled at Rickon. “You wanna sit in the police car?”

 

Rickon nodded enthusiastically as they all climbed out of the truck. Jon took Dany’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. As they reached the back porch, he saw her eye the obliterated lock. She pushed open the door hesitantly, her jaw clenching as she stared at her broken kitchen table and chairs. They’d removed the broken cabinet doors, leaving them stacked against the stove. She took stock of the mostly empty shelves, some holding the few plates and bowls they thought could be glued back together. She marched through the house stopping to kneel in front of her radio and examine the pieces of her broken record collection. She hung her head for a moment, then was back on her feet going through the rest of the house only stopping at the devastation in her bedroom. 

 

He remained silent, allowing her to examine each piece as she needed. She fingered the sheets of her bed, sliced clean through, her mattress showing the stuffing from within. Her anger finally broke through at the word written above her bed. 

 

“Ramsay!”

 

Jon shoved his hands into his pockets. “That’s what Davos and I ‘spect, but he told me there’s nothin’ we can do cause we can’t prove any of it was them.”

 

“Who else could it be?!” she snapped.

 

“I know, I know, but that ain’t evidence,” he said softly, “I’m so sorry, Dany.”

 

She glared at him, her beautiful eyes filled with fire. “If you want to make me angrier, apologize again. This isn’t your fault. None of it is. This is little boys playing at a big man’s gam–”

 

He shook his head, taking a step closer to her. “No, these are men, with twisted minds. And they got power and money behind em. Making enemies with them was a mistake I shouldn’t have made.”

 

“Stop blaming yourself!” she yelled. “This is not your fault! This isn’t  _ my _ fault! This is Ramsay and Locke’s fault! I will  _ not _ have you taking blame for what they did. I love you, but stop trying to make this about you. It’s about them and their wounded pride! I’ll make them pay for this,” she fumed as she tried to stomp from the room, but he caught her by the arm. “Let me go, Jon.”

 

“No, you’re gonna listen. Rickon’s been sleepin’ with us off and on since Thorne came up to the house. You know he’s already upset about everythin’. If you go out there, mad as you are, he’ll know somethin’ else happened. I need ya to calm down even though I know it's the last thing ya wanna do, believe me,  _ I know _ . But I’m askin’ ya to stop and take a deep breath before you go outside.  _ Please _ .”

 

When he felt some of the tension leave her he let her go and she fell back against the opposite door frame from him, heaving a sigh. She brought a hand up to her face and he could see it shaking as she tried to control her breathing. “So, everything I own that's still worth keeping is currently in my suitcase or I’m wearing it?”

 

He wanted to tell her he was sorry again, but decided a nod was best. She took another deep breath. “I can have them killed,” she said softly. “It would only take a letter home.”

 

“You probably could, but it’s like Davos said, they’re waitin’ for us to react. They want  _ us  _ to escalate it. And if we do, he can’t help us.”

 

“So, what do we do? Nothing?”

 

“We regroup with everyone on the mountain and start movin’ some plans forward. But for my own piece of mind, will you come home with me tonight? Let me reassure myself that you’re alright and...I ain’t left worryin’ myself sick about someone breakin’ in here and doin’ horrible things to ya?”

 

She looked at her bedroom, then crossed the space between them to be in his arms. He held her tight, pressing a kiss to her forehead, some of his fears easing their grip knowing she'd be safe that night at least. But then she spoke again, sending a chill up his spine. “I’ll make them pay for this, Jon.”

 

He pushed aside the spike of fear. He knew what she’d come to do, knew she wouldn't stop until she got her revenge. He wanted his own for different reasons. He’d stand by her come hell or high water. “I know, and I’ll help, but not yet. We need to get back outside to Rickon.”

 

She followed him out of the bedroom, watching silently as he wedged one of the kitchen chairs against her backdoor to keep it secure, then took his hand as they went out the front. He locked the door behind them with her keys. 

 

Davos greeted them with a nod once they got around back, Rickon still sitting behind the wheel of his car. “I’ll be keepin’ an eye on the place,” he told her quietly.

 

She nodded. “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll be back,” she told him, her arms folded over her chest. “I plan to stay tomorrow night.”

 

“Dany,” Jon started but grew silent at the look she cut him. She could be stubborn and determined to stay if she wanted, but he’d be right there with her. 

 

*~*

 

They'd managed to keep the boys from suspecting anything the rest of the afternoon, answering questioning looks with shakes of the head or whispered words while acting as though it was any other normal day. 

 

Rickon insisted they tuck him in, so they did, while Robb and Marg got Bran settled for the night. Jon did a few shadow puppets for him and Dany sang him a song. The routine had become old hat for them and he was asleep in no time. When they made it to the kitchen five worried faces were staring back at them. 

 

“I told em all I knew,” Arya supplied. “Anythin’ else go on after I left?”

 

Jon shook his head. “Not really.”

 

Marg got up and went to Dany, wrapping her in a tight hug. Dany seemed to take the comfort, hugging Margaery back just as tight. “I’m so glad you weren't there,” Marg told her, “but I wish those cretins hadn't destroyed your things.”

 

Dany let her go, shaking her head. “They’re just that, things. I can replace them.” She looked pointedly at him, then Arya, before looking everyone else over. “The same can't be said for all of you.”

 

He went to her and pulled her against him, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. “Or you.”

 

“So, we do nothin’,  _ again _ ?” 

 

“Arya, we talked about this,” he sighed. “Ya know why we can't.”

 

“Jon’s right,” Dany agreed, stepping back. “I wish he wasn't. Believe me, there's nothing more I want than to rid the world of Ramsay Bolton, but we’d be foolish to go after him now. I swore to Jon I wouldn't lose another loved one, I meant it. I don't want any of you risking your life for me.”

 

“What's there to stop him then?” Arya shot back. “He’ll just keep doin’ it. He won't get bored, he’ll get pissed he’s bein’ ignored. And maybe next time he follows through on the threat he made at the school.”

 

Jon ran a hand down his face, feeling sick again at the thought, while Dany crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “I have a gun and a knife. I know how to use both quite well. I won't cower to him. He tries to physically harm me, I’ll harm him, same as you would.”

 

“Please tell me that doesn't mean you're going back?” Margaery asked.

 

Dany cast him a look before walking to the coffee pot and pouring herself a cup. “I am, tomorrow. I have my students to think of, a house to finish cleaning, things to replace. I can't do any of that hiding up here.”

 

He took a deep breath and blew it out. It wasn't personal, he knew that. If the shoe was on the other foot, he wouldn't be hiding either. None of them would.

 

Arya glared at him from across the room. “You gonna stay with her?”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck feeling the weight of Dany's eyes on him, as well as his sister's. He was trapped as good as a rabbit in a snare. “As often as she’ll let me.”

 

“You gonna let him?” Arya demanded.

 

He watched as Dany almost choked on her coffee. She put the cup down and delicately wiped her mouth as they all stared at her waiting for an answer. “Would it make you all feel better if I did?” She got a resounding  _ yes _ from the room. Her resulting smile was a bit pained, but he could tell she was just overwhelmed by their show of affection. He went to her again and tucked her against his side. She took a moment, pulling her lips between her teeth while looking down at her shoes, but soon enough, she was back, strong as ever. “If you can spare him, of course I will.”

 

“We’ll make do,” Robb said and looked over at Bronn. “We can talk to Olenna, have her put a bit more weight into Bronn's pocket.”

 

“Works for me,” Bronn agreed, saluting the idea with his coffee cup held high.

 

“Me and Gendry talked it over already, we’ll come help ya get the house back in order tomorrow. He’s good at fixin’ things.”

 

“Thank you both so much, but you don't have to,” Dany protested.

 

“Yeah we do, that's what families are for. Ain't that right, Gendry?” she asked, poking him with her elbow. 

 

He just smiled over at Dany and gave a nod. “Sure is.”

  
  


*~*

 

He and Gendry worked on the bed as Arya piled up the scraps of Dany’s clothing and put them in bags. She’d told them not to throw any of them away hoping she could save some of the expensive beads off her dresses. 

 

The first thing Arya had done when they arrived was paint over the word on the wall, cussing the entire time she did it. Jon would’ve found it funny if not for the seriousness of it all. Now, Dany’s bedroom smelled like fresh paint and the remnants of her broken furniture had been cleaned up or repaired. It was looking almost back to normal. He appreciated Gendry and Arya helping, knowing they usually spent the day sleeping. Dany would appreciate it, too, once she saw just how much they’d gotten done while she was teaching. 

 

Davos had returned midmorning with her repaired coffee table, offering to stay and help, but they ushered him away with orders to keep eyes on the schoolhouse. 

 

Arya moved the box of clothing into the living room and soon after Jon heard the broom swishing over the floor. Gendry heaved out a sigh and shook his head. “You gotta be the strongest son of a bitch I ever met,” he said as he lifted the side rail and hooked it back into the headboard.

 

“Whatcha mean?”

 

He looked around the room, then at Jon. “Oberyn flirts with Arya and I feel like I’m ready to murder him, but I don’t cause she’d kill me for bein’ stupid. If someone did this to her...and I had even a hunch who’d done it...they’d already be dead.”

 

Jon ran a hand over the back of his neck and groaned. “Everythin’ in me is tellin’ me to do exactly what you’re sayin’. Take you, Robb, Bronn, and Arya and go settle things with Ramsay and Locke once and for all.”

 

“So, why ain't we?”

 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. “Cause someone would die. I could hope all I want it wouldn’t be one a’ us, but I can’t promise that. And if it’s Robb, then Margaery an’ her baby would live a hard life, even if her family helps. She’d never get over it. If it’s you, nothin’ would ever rein in Arya, and vice versa. And if it’s me...Dany loses someone else,” he said softly. “She lost her parents, her husband, and her baby all in the same night. I don’t...I  _ can’t  _ leave her alone,” he whispered, barely containing the emotion in his voice. 

 

Gendry glanced out the door toward the living room, and Jon cast his eyes in the same direction, watching Arya pick up the broken pieces of Dany’s records. He turned and slid the bed back against the wall and Jon helped him flip the mattress. “I don’t like it, but I understand. It’s hard finally findin’ somethin’ in this world that makes ya feel like ya belong in it and knowin’ that some asshole could take it all away.”

 

Jon frowned and shook his head. “Arya don’t understand.”

 

Gendry folded his arms over his chest. “No, I reckon she don’t. But then, she didn’t grow up like us, feelin’ outta place, unwanted, like a burden. When you find somebody that makes ya feel whole, like ya belong, like your life means somethin’...I get it.”

 

He nodded at his best friend, too grateful and choked up to do more. 

 

*~*

 

He held the door open for Dany as she stepped into her kitchen, hopefully finding it much improved. They'd gotten all of the cabinet doors rehung. Gendry had to put a new strip of wood on the sides since they’d been torn loose with the hinges. He’d also managed to fix her kitchen table and salvage two of her chairs, the other two tossed in the back of his truck with a promise that given a few days he could fix those too. 

 

Jon watched her take inventory of everything that had been broken or destroyed now fixed or removed, and her small smile grew wider the more they went through her house.

 

She touched the headboard of the bed and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief to see the word removed from the wall. “Almost good as new,” she said, her smile sad as she walked over to him and placed a kiss on his lips. “Course, we’ll have to test the bed to make sure,” she said with a wink. 

 

He chuckled softly. “Arya and Gendry jumped on it and it seemed pretty firm.”

 

She laughed as well, shaking her head. “So, what all do I need?”

 

Jon pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I made ya a list.”

 

She smiled up at him, then gave him another kiss. “Of course you did. Because you're Jon, and you’re perfect.” 

 

Rolling his eyes as she giggled at him, he took her hand, pulling her through the house. “C’mon, let's get to the store ‘fore Tormund closes it up for the day.”

 

It took them past closing, but they got everything she needed either bought or ordered, Tormund promising to deliver it all himself. He and Brienne also promised to keep their eyes and ears open for any murmurings where the Bolton's and Lannister's were concerned. They didn't live too far from Dany either and told her if she got in trouble to get a shot off and they’d come running. 

 

It gave Jon another sliver of peace knowing it wasn't just him and his family looking out for her. 

 

*~*

 

He was making his third nightly trip down the mountain in a week, pushing the truck as fast as it would go, anxious to get to Dany. He was starving, but as usual, for more than just food where she was concerned. He found it harder and harder to leave her each day, his responsibilities to his family pulling him in one direction and his love and concern for her pulling him another. Just one more night in town this week and then she'd be on the mountain with them, everyone safe and sound in one place. 

 

As he came up on the main road, his heart stuttered. Sitting crossways in front of him was a car with a man leaning against it. Jon slammed on the brakes, fearing he'd hit them, but as he slid to stop, a different sort of feeling gripped him. Despite the darkness and boiling dust dancing in the headlights, he knew exactly who’d been waiting on him. Thorne. He sent up a thank you, glad it was him in the truck and not Arya and Gendry, that night being one of the few evenings they weren’t doing a run. Otherwise, the two of them would have ended up in jail, or worse. He took a steadying breath as Thorne strolled toward him, knowing whatever he wanted, it wouldn't be good.

 

“Snow,” he said gruffly. “Get out of the truck.”

 

Jon removed the keys and tucked them into his pocket then opened the door. “There a problem, Sheriff?”

 

Alliser eyed him, then the truck. “This truck is known for carrying shine. I’m gonna search it.”

 

Jon stepped out of the way. “Help yourself,” he said, keeping his hands at his sides. But quick as a whip, Thorne punched him in the gut and he went to his knees, gasping for air. 

 

“I ain't gonna put up with no smart talk,” he said, already reaching beneath the truck seat then looking behind it. He walked to the back and lifted the tarp up. He wouldn’t find anything. 

 

Jon gripped his middle, wanting nothing more than to stand up and put the man in the dirt. But his family and Dany flashed through his mind. Much as he hated him, he was still a lawman. He’d lost his temper before and paid for it, he couldn't risk it. Someone he loved might wind up paying the price instead.

 

“Get up, boy. You’re embarassin’ yourself,” Thorne sneered, as he went around to the passenger side and checked beneath the seat over there. 

 

Jon slowly climbed to his feet as Alliser walked back to stand in front of him. The look of disgust on Thorne’s face equaled what was boiling in his gut as they glared at one another. Thorne leveled another punch and Jon doubled over, refusing to make a sound and give him any satisfaction. Then he was snatched up by the hair. “You’re not worthy of bein’ her son,” he hissed and hit him again, this time in the ribs. Jon only stayed on his feet by the hold Alliser had on him. “Too chicken shit to even fight back without your family behind you, huh?” He shoved Jon’s head away from him. “I can’t wait til I can kill you for killin’ her.”

 

Jon scowled at him, doing his best to get air into his lungs. “Who you talkin’ ‘bout?” he gasped, “My Ma?”

 

Thorne was in his face again, rage lighting his eyes. “Yes, you fool boy! Lyanna was supposed to be  _ mine! I _ loved her! But your low down piece of shit father filled her head with foolish notions and knocked her up!” he snarled, spit flying. “I mighta even forgave her for that and raised you as mine if you hadn’t a’ killed her. You and your devil father.” He landed another vicious punch to his ribs.

 

Jon remained as quiet and still as he could. He wasn’t going to give Alliser a reason to lock him up, no matter how bad he wanted to kill him. 

 

A car was coming down the road, engine rumbling, the glow of headlights filling the darkness. Alliser held him upright until it passed then released him with a shove toward the cab of his truck. “I know you and your piss poor family’s runnin’ shine from that mountain. And when I catch you, there won’t be a Stark or a  _ Snow _ left standin’.” He tipped his hat. “Have a  _ lovely _ evenin’,” he said then turned and walked back to his car.

 

Jon held his ribs and leaned against the truck, trying to catch his breath as he watched Alliser drive off. He blocked out the pain, his mind too busy spinning with all Thorne had revealed to notice anyway. It explained so much. 

 

As a boy, he’d realized quickly that Thorne didn’t like him. He’d only been a deputy then, but was always glaring at Jon like he was no better than shit on his shoes. When he hit his teenage years Thorne had tried to pin trouble on him more than once, but since the incidents were in town, Davos had jurisdiction and Alliser wasn’t able to touch him. Davos had taken an interest in him, around that time, took him under his wing, offering kind words and guidance whenever he could. But Alliser’s hate had continued, speaking snidely about Jon's bastard status to anyone with a reputation in town. And now he knew why. 

 

He wouldn't forget Thorne's threat to kill him, or the one against his family. He meant them and Jon knew it. He climbed into the truck and put the keys into the ignition, cranking it up. He just wanted to block it out of his mind for a bit. He’d wrap his head around it later. He needed Dany.

 

*~*

 

Her little house was a welcome sight. Cheery, yellow shafts of light spilling from several of the windows greeted him as he pulled into the yard. Undeterred by the dark turn his night had taken, his heart thumped heavily behind his ribs, not with anger, or fear, but a swell of ease, and not a little spike of gratification. 

 

Inside that house was a woman who had looked through all the hate and disdain that others threw at him and had chosen him to be hers. Trusted him with her heart after having it broken so many times before. Offered him a love he never knew possible. 

 

No one was going to take her from him or shame him into letting her go. Not Alliser, not Ramsay, no one. 

 

A wave of mouth-watering smells greeted him as soon as he walked onto her back porch, only growing stronger once he opened the kitchen door. 

 

Dany was smiling at him from where she stood at the sink, drying a pot. “Hi. Hope you’re hungry, I’ve got supper for you.”

 

The sight of her was enough to dampen some the ire and fear that still gripped his nerves. She was too tempting in her simple day dress, apron, and bare feet, her hair laying in a single braid over her shoulder. Her cheeks flushed, eyes bright. 

 

He went to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pressing his lips and nose into her warm neck, breathing her in deep. His anxious energy began to melt away. She was fine, alive and unhurt, in his arms where she belonged and he could breathe again despite the painful ache in his middle.

 

She turned her face toward him, cupping his cheek and giving his temple a quick peck. “You okay?” she asked, worried. 

 

He wouldn't have that, she had enough to deal with. He lifted his head and kissed her. “Just missed you.”

 

“You always miss me,” she chuffed, going back to drying her pot.

 

“I do. Don't feel whole without you anymore.”

 

She laid her dishtowel down and turned in his arms, her fingers sliding into the messy curls at the back of his neck as she smiled up at him, devilry in her pretty eyes. “You and those sweet words of yours, Jon Snow. You're going to make me want to skip supper and go right to dessert. And after I slaved over it for hours too.”

 

“Sorry, just tellin’ the truth.”

 

He could have sworn her lip trembled, but then she was kissing him and he forgot all about it and everything else too. His hands had found their way under her dress tail, hers under his shirt and up his back before they were forced to break apart for air. 

 

Dany pushed him away, swatting at him playfully. He managed not to grimace when her hand grazed his bruised ribs. “Go sit and eat your supper,” she ordered, untying her apron. 

 

Grinning, he did as she demanded, knowing they could get back to messing each other up later. 

 

Her little table was laden with bowls and dishes. Golden brown cornbread had been turned out onto a plate, cut into neat wedges, a butter dish right beside it. Bright red tomato slices were piled on another. A bowl of pinto beans was steaming next to it, chunks of thick bacon swimming in them. White hominy filled one more. And a plate of country fried steak sat in the center, rich brown gravy poured over each piece. His stomach growled loud enough Dany laughed as she joined him across the table.

 

Cheeks warm, he looked at her, unable to hide his surprise. “This looks and smells amazin’. Didn't think a lady like you would’ve ever needed to know how to cook like this.”

 

She smiled, a soft, tiny thing that left a wistful look in her eyes. She began filling her plate and motioned for him to do the same. “I didn't for a long time. Not until…”

 

“It's alright, you don't have ta talk about it,” he assured her.

 

Dany shook her head. “I’d like to if you don't mind hearing it.”

 

He huffed. She could be so silly sometimes. “Course I don't. I wanna know everythin’ there is to know about ya.” 

 

She picked up the plate of tomatoes for him, but just as he got his fork close enough to spear one she pulled it back. He held his fork in mid-air, and stared at her, his heart seeming to turn a flip in his chest at the look she was giving him, all soft and vulnerable. “I love you,” she whispered. 

 

That rush of amazement filled him as it always did when she spoke those words. He didn't bother tamping down his smile. “I love you too. You sure you’re alright?” he asked, searching her eyes. Just like that, the aching tenderness within the sea blue depths disappeared and they sparkled and shined with happiness as she nodded, nudging his fork with the tomatoes. Whatever it had been had passed, but he'd watch her close the rest of the night. 

 

“I obviously couldn't go home after I left the hospital,” she continued, spooning some pintos onto her plate, “so I went to the only other refuge I had. My best friends’ home. Grey and Missy Wormwood.” 

 

She held her plate out for him and he speared a piece of steak onto his fork and served it to her, before doing the same for himself. “Please tell me you didn't lose them too,” he asked carefully.

 

“No, they're both safe and sound back in Boston. Missy was,  _ is _ our lounge singer for the clubs,” she explained as she cut into her steak. “Her voice could turn the hardest of hearts to mush. That’s one of the keys to running clubs that will be filled full of criminals every night. It’s amazing how quickly men can be brought to heel with a gorgeous woman and her voice.”

 

He chuckled. “I can see that. You nearly put me ta sleep the nights you sing to Rickon.”

 

She smiled and shook her head. “My voice doesn't compare to Missy’s. Hers is every bit as beautiful as she is.”

 

“So’s yours,” he argued.

 

Dany rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't disappear. He couldn't be sure, but she might've actually blushed. 

 

“Grey, her husband, plays the piano while she sings. He’s as wasted in those clubs as she is. He needs to be at Juilliard or playing in a concert hall in Europe. He can play anything, he only needs to hear it once. The home his family served had a piano and they allowed him to play, thinking nothing of a quiet little boy pecking at the keys. Next thing they knew he was out-playing their own child who had been taking lessons for years. But being colored… Well, I’m sure you know.” She finally put the piece of steak into her mouth and chewed it, washing it down with some sweet tea. She was even beautiful when she ate.

 

He shook himself and went to eating, worried he’d offend her if he left his food forgotten to stare at her. He groaned as the rich salty taste hit his tongue, the steak nearly melting in his mouth it was so tender. “Damn, Dany.”

 

She giggled. “Good?”

 

“Best I ever had,” he told her, cutting another piece, then shoving it into his mouth. 

 

“Thank you, but a student is only as good as their teacher.”

 

He swallowed, minding his manners, before asking his question. “Who taught ya?”

 

“Missy, and Grey some, as well. I had no clue how to cook, clean, any of the things one needs to know to run a household. It had all been done for me by servants all my life. My friends were not so privileged. Their grandparents had all been slaves, their parents paid servants. Both of them knew very well how to take care of themselves and others.” She ate a few bites of hominy while he busied himself buttering a piece of cornbread. Then she laughed. “They took great enjoyment at my ineptitude at times, lots of laughter, eye rolling, and shared looks of exasperation were exchanged at my expense. But they never lost patience with me.”

 

“I’m sure you weren't all that bad. You're too smart to be bad at anythin’.”

 

Dany snorted into her tea. “Thank you for saying so, but I was that bad. While I wasn't a brat, being wealthy left me ignorant of many things.” 

 

Jon didn't know what to say to that, he wouldn't know wealthy if it jumped up and bit him. And he couldn't imagine his Pa not teaching them to do for themselves. 

 

“Anyway, the three of us spent a lot of time together in their tiny apartment,” she went on. “I was losing my mind being cooped up with no outlet for my anxious energy. They both worked nearly every night at the clubs and slept a lot when they were home. I tried to keep their schedule so I wasn't alone so much, did my best to keep things clean. But after I nearly burnt the place down trying to cook for them they decided to teach me how to do it the right way.”

 

“You must’ve caught on quick. It's all delicious. Better than Margaery's or Aunt Cat’s,” he praised her.

 

“You're not just saying that to stay on my sweet side, are you?” she asked, but he could tell she was teasing him.

 

His damn face flushed, but he smiled anyway. “I do like bein’ on your sweet side, but that ain't why I said it. It's the truth.”

 

She smiled right back and they ate the rest of their supper in comfortable silence, exchanging glances to start and heated stares by the end, both eager to get to  _ dessert. _

 

And they did, Jon getting up from his clean plate and helping her from her chair. She came to him without a moment's hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising up onto her toes to kiss him. He was soon lost in her, her mouth, her hands, her moans, all leaving him dizzy, only realizing they’d moved when his legs backed into something. He did a quick look around, still taking greedy pulls from her lips.

 

“The couch?”

 

“I'm too impatient to make it to the bed,” she breathed into his mouth, her hands slipping into the back of his britches and squeezing his backside, her nails biting into his skin. She hummed appreciatively. “Do you know something, Jon?”

 

“What?” he grunted, moving his kisses around to her ear as he unbuttoned the neck of her dress. She gasped when he sucked at her earlobe.

 

“If I didn't love your precious heart so much, or your pretty face, this,” she squeezed again, “would be my favorite part of you.” 

 

That brought him up short. He pulled back, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Did you slip some shine into your tea without me seein’?”

 

She giggled, shaking her head. “No, you just happen to have a very,  _ very _ nice backside,” she said, giving him one more squeeze then ridding him of his britches and shorts. He’d lost his boots somewhere along the way, so he stepped out of his clothes and shoved them aside. She pushed him down onto the couch before pulling her dress off over her head. There was no slip underneath, only her silky drawers and lacy bra, both in a pretty robin's egg blue and hugging her perfect curves. 

 

He fell back into the couch, still as awed by her beauty as he was the first time he’d seen her. “It's a wonder I got a lick a’ sense left in my head,” he whispered.

 

She laughed. “Why?”

 

“Cause, you steal it every time I see you like this. In nothin’ but your pretty silk things.” He let his eyes roam her body, the growing ache in his cock tightening. It jumped beneath his shirt. 

 

Her smile grew, lips curling up to show her pretty teeth. “Silk  _ things _ ?”

 

He sat up and reached for her, wrapping his hands around her silk-clad hips and pulling her between his spread thighs. “Told ya, you stole my senses, don't even know what ta call em. Just know I like em.”

 

“How much do you like them?” she murmured, runnin’ her fingers through his hair and around to his chin, tipping it up so he’d look at her.

 

“A lot, but not enough they get to stay on ya. At least not these,” he told her, pulling the little bows at her tiny waist with his teeth.

 

“Then this goes too,” she said, tugging at his shirt. 

 

He was quick to do her bidding, taking it off and tossing it aside then reaching for her again, only for her to step away.

 

“Jon!”

 

He looked up, startled, finding a fierce scowl on her face. “What is it?” he asked. He hadn't touched her, he couldn't have hurt her.

 

“What happened to you?” she demanded.

 

“What’re you…” Then it hit him, hard as Thorne’s fists had. He’d pushed it aside, let her pluck it from his mind to deal with later and had totally forgotten it.

 

“Jon, answer me. Who did this to you?!” she asked again, sitting beside him and pushing him back to inspect his stomach and ribs with gentle fingers. “Did you and Robb fight? Gendry, Bronn?”

 

“What? No. We argue, but we ain't never hit one another. Did your brothers?” Maybe he could distract her.

 

“Viserys sometimes,” she muttered, leaning over him to see his other side better, then her eyes were on his, bright as blue flames. “Rams–”

 

“No,” he cut her off quick then sighed heavily. “Wasn't him either. Wish it had been. I would've gladly fought back.” 

 

“Jon, don't make me ask–”

 

“It was Sheriff Thorne.”

 

“When?”

 

“Just 'fore I got here tonight. He was waitin’ on me at the base of the mountain.”

 

“And he just, what? Started beating on you? And you didn't fight back? Why?”

 

He heaved out a deep breath. “He searched the truck for shine, an…” He didn't know what to tell her about the rest. He’d barely wrapped his mind around it, still didn't know what to think. He fisted his shirt in his hand and covered himself with it. He sure wouldn't be talking about his mama with his cock out for all and sundry to see. He laid his head against the back of the couch and stared at her ceiling. She had a leak. He'd have to remember to check it for her. “I never knew why till tonight, but he's always hated me. Thought it was just cause I was a bastard. Turns out that was only the half of it. He loved her, or said he did.”

 

“Who?” she asked, her voice much softer.

 

“My Ma.”

 

Dany gasped. “He’s not…”

 

He shook his head vehemently. “No. Thank God. Said she turned him down, then he found out ‘bout me. I killed her he said, me and the _ devil _ who defiled her. Said he mighta took me in, raised me as his own if I hadn't a’ took her from him.”

 

“Oh Jon, I’m–”

 

He shook his head again, cutting her off. There was nothing for her to apologize for. He reached a hand out and brushed his fingers down her cheek. “I didn't fight back cause it woulda only made things worse. He woulda took me in, either locked me up in county, or drug me to Tywin, or the Bolton's. You wouldn't a’ known where I went, might a’ thought I left ya.” 

 

She took his fingers in her hands and squeezed them, shaking her head. “Never. I would’ve never thought that.”

 

He shrugged. “Then you would've come lookin’ for me. My family...none of you woulda stopped until you found me, or were all dead from tryin’. It was best to just let him have his fun.” She reached for him again, pain and anger warring in her eyes, mouth opening to speak. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip to stop her. “Can we talk about it later? I’d forgot. I wanna forget again.” 

 

Her brows furrowed. “You're hurt, we shouldn't.” 

 

“I don't care ‘bout that. I ain't lettin’ him take any part a’ you away from me. Or anyone else neither.”

 

“I don't want to hurt you.”

 

“Nothing hurts when you're in my arms.”

 

A little whimper sounded in her throat, then his face was cradled in her hands and she was kissing him as if her life depended on the air he was giving her. They managed to free her from her fancy drawers and bra without breaking away from each other, his shirt was thrown across the room and out of the way, then she was in his lap, her warm, soft skin pressed to his, the scalding wet heat of her nestled over his cock, bringing it quickly back to life as she rocked against him.

 

His groans mixed with her panting breaths, her fingers grasping his hair while his gripped handfuls of her lovely backside, helping her slide up and down, grinding them together. He could feel her clit, a hardened pebble gliding against the ridge of his cock. She gasped each time it ran over the head of him, the sensation making them both shudder. He didn't want to wait, was in no mood to tease and torment, he needed her and knew she needed him, so he drew her up and tilted her hips as he did his own and took her, slowly, letting them feel each inch until he bottomed out. The yield of her slick walls, welcoming his intrusion, hard and resolute, both giving and taking. 

 

She shook in his arms, clutching him closer as her cunt grasped and squeezed at his cock. He let her lead and she set a measured pace, riding him slow and deliberate, each roll of her hips sending his eyes back in his head, pulling at the coil deep within him, clenching it tighter and tighter as they drank from each other's mouths.

 

It was quickly becoming too much, he needed her with him, so he shifted forward, giving himself some leverage, his hands grasping at her shoulders and leaning her back. She cried out at the new angle, and again as he latched onto one rosy peak, suckling at it, then teasing it with his tongue before moving to the other. Her hips sped up, grinding down against him in rolling circles, her velvet walls feverish and trembling around him, making him impossibly harder, the ache near blinding. His name was leaving her in a gasping chant, begging for more. So that's what he gave her, holding her down tight, his thrusts driving up until they crashed together, splintering apart in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving breaths, her cries of release muffled by the blood roaring in his ears. 

 

He collapsed back into the coach, taking her with him, both shivering and shaking as the last waves rolled through them. 

 

She came back to herself first as she always seemed to, enlivened and feisty compared to his heavy and unwieldy. She kissed across his chest and up his neck to his jaw then mouth. “I love you, Jon.”

 

He forced his arms to move, wrapping them around her and laying them down before kissing her back, slow and easy. “I love you too, lass. More an’ anything else,” he whispered, his eyes falling closed. 

 

Her fingernails scraped through his beard. “Are you alright? We didn't hurt you, did we?”

 

He shook his head and grunted. “Best I been all day.”

 

*~*

 

They'd dozed off a bit on the couch then found their way to her bedroom after washing up themselves, and the kitchen. The afterglow was fading though, all the hounds that’d been tracking them for weeks back on his heels, pulling him down into the darkness as he watched her get settled beside him.

 

She glanced over at him before turning off the light and froze. Then her soft hand was running over his face, brushing back his hair and tucking it behind his ear. “What's that look for?”

 

He cursed his worried mind and uncontrollable talent for brooding before giving her a weak smile then a kiss. “Nothin’, I’m fine. You just wore me out is all.”

 

Her eyebrows rose. “You are a terrible liar, Jon Snow. Did you know that?”

 

Snorting he pulled her against him, fitting her head under his chin. “I'm terrible at a lot a’ things.” 

 

“Not true. You’re good at almost everything as far as I know, and  _ very _ good at others,” she teased, threatening to tickle him. He squirmed away, but hissed at the sharp twinge it caused in his side. Her eyes went wide then creased with worry. “Oh God, Jon. I’m sorry, I forgot,” she fretted.

 

He caught his breath, shaking his head. “It's alright, just a bit sore is all,” he grunted.

 

“Let me get you some ice,” she said, moving to get up, but he grabbed her hip before she got too far. 

 

“I’m okay, lass. I’d much rather you just stay here with me,” he told her when she looked back at him. Maybe he hadn't sounded like some pitiful boy, even if he felt like one.

 

She settled back beside him much to his relief,  propping herself on one hand, the other laid over his heart as her blue eyes took him hostage. “Tell me what's wrong? Is it what happened?” She glanced at his bruises. 

 

He shook his head and sighed, he couldn't help himself. He felt sick, his chest tight, stomach rolling and queer. Avoiding her astute gaze, he ran his fingers through her hair watching how it gleamed bright as new pennies in the lamplight. Robb was right, she couldn’t make his worries go away unless he asked her. 

 

“When the hell that's comin’ for us finally breaks. When it's over…” The rest hung in his throat, impeded by fears thick as a briar patch. He swallowed and closed his eyes, desperate to steady himself, not wanting to reveal the lovesick fool he was. She was waiting patiently on him when he opened his eyes once more, love shining from her own. He’d never get over how brave she could make him feel, yet scared to death too. He hung onto the bravery. “What happens then? I know you didn't come here intendin’ to stay.”

 

“No, you're right, I didn't. That doesn't mean I haven't changed my mind,” she said softly, her thumb rubbing over one of his scars.

 

His demons jeered, rearing their ugly heads. He could almost hear them laughing, like the youngin’s in the school yard used to. _Might change_ _her mind abou_ t _you_ , _too_. They stared and mocked, their eyes filled with the same glinting hate that poured in abundance from Aunt Cat’s, filling him with fury and shame in equal measure. But Dany wasn't one of them. He knew that down to his bones. 

 

He swallowed, his throat still thick and knotted. “Have you?” he managed finally.

 

“I have. My life is here now.”

 

“But you had a life there too, a better one.”

 

She snorted. “A life filled with little to no love, full of drinking, crime, and murder.” Her eyes rolled. “So much better than here.”

 

He scowled at her. “Dany, I’m serious.” 

 

“So am I,” she retorted. 

 

He ran a hand down his face.  _ How could she not see it?  _ “I’m a bootlegger, in case you forgot. There's your crime and drinkin’. And the murder’s comin’. I don't know when, but I know it is. Now, I love ya, rest of my family ain't far behind me, but is that really enough to make it better? I’m dirt poor. Whatever I make goes to my family, it has to. We got a lot a’ mouths to feed, feet to put shoes on. Bran to keep alive. I ain't even got a roof to put over your head. Not one a’ my own. An’ you got a crazed stalker after you cause a’ me. Not to mention Thorne and the Lannister's. Any of which could come after me and hurt you in the process.”

 

“ _ No _ . Stop that,” she said between gritted teeth. “You're doing it again. We’ve already had that conversation. You're not to blame for any of them. I won't say it again, and you won't either,” she insisted. “As for the rest, I have more than enough to build us a house of our own. Enough to keep your family fed, warm, and healthy for the rest of their liv–”

 

“That ain't your job, that's mine and Robb's.”

 

She groaned. “Do not get all barbaric on me, Jon Snow. I love that you want to take care of me all on your own, but you don't have to carry that burden on top of all your others. I don't want you to. I’m my own woman. You love that about me whether you want to admit it right now or not.”

 

She wasn't wrong. He did love her independence, her stubbornness, the fire that burned within her, that drove her with a fierce determination to have the things she wanted. “I’m not afraid to admit that at all. I do love that about ya. Doesn't change the fact I want to be what you deserve.”

 

She seemed to melt in front of him. Her fire dimming to a fading ember, then his name left her in a pain filled sigh. Her head fell to his chest leaving her hidden from him, but only for a moment, then she carefully snuggled up to his side. “Do you love me?” she asked, her eyes growing liquid and dark.

 

He swallowed and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “Ya know I do.”

 

She inched closer. “Do you think for one moment I would settle for  _ anything _ less than what I deserve?”

 

_ Shit.  _ She had him there. She wouldn't, he knew that as well as he knew his own hand was at the end of his arm. He shook his head, soundly defeated, but quite happy about it.

 

“You are not tainted or unworthy of the good things this world has to offer. Your heart is pure, selfless to a fault. And you have loved me more in the last few months than I was loved my entire life.” Her voice had wavered at the end, her eyes falling closed. She trapped her trembling lip between her teeth. 

 

His heart broke, pain and anger leaking out from the cracks. Pain, knowing the horrible things she'd suffered, anger that there was no one left he could punish for it. He’d like to kill them all again for what they'd done. He took her precious face into his hand and drew her across the scant space left between them, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She molded herself to him again and he gathered her up, rolling them over, ignoring the pain it caused and brushed her hair back so he could see her. She no longer looked ready to cry, but there was still pain swimming in those beautiful blue depths. 

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't a’ doubted–”

 

“Hush. It's alright,” she whispered, her fingers coming up to rest on his lips. “I have demons that haunt me too. I understand.” Her hand moved around to cup his cheek. “But promise me something.” 

 

“Anythin’.”

 

“We’ve suffered enough, traveled roads not everyone could have. Have more to suffer through. We both deserve this love we have. Please don't push it away.  _ That _ I won't survive.”

 

She was near tears again and he couldn’t stand it. “No more, I promise.”

 

“I love you, Jon. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me. I won't be leaving unless you're going too. From now on, whatever comes, good or bad, we face it,  _ together _ .”

 

“Together. I like that.”

 

“Me too,” she whispered, and pulled him down against her, stroking his back and fingering his hair. 

 

He pressed his face into her neck and let her scent, and touch, her love, soak into his bones.

 

It was bound to be a struggle for him at times, but he’d keep those demons locked away from now on. They could hurt him all they liked, but he wouldn't stand for them hurting her. The pain that had haunted her eyes would never be because of him again. Not if he could help it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dany is next week. Let us know what you thought.


	19. You Make the Darkness Less Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With events in the town getting worse, Dany writes for her people to come. Demons of the past have ways of following you into the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support and love in the last chapter. We know it looks bleak and bad, but we promise that it's not all horrible. 
> 
> The gorgeous mood board was made by the supremely talented Justwanderingneverlost.

 

 

**DAENERYS**

_I have so many questions and places to go_  
_There are too many options,_  
_far too many unknowns_  
_This is why I need you_  
  
_And everyone talks now, but no one is right_  
_There are too many armies, with no one to fight_  
_This is why I need you_  
  
_'Cause you make the darkness less dark_  
_You make the edges less sharp_  
_You make the winter feel warmer_  
_And you make my weakness less weak_  
_You make the bottom less deep_  
_You make the waiting feel shorter_  
_You make my crazy feel normal, every time_  
_You are the who, love is the what,_  
_and this is the why_  
  
_There are so many problems_  
_and no one who cares_  
_There are so many roads,_  
_and they all need repairs_  
_This is why I need you_

 _And there's not enough chocolate,_  
_there's too many chores_  
_There are so many mountains_  
_that I haven't explored_  
_This is why I need you_  
  
_'Cause you make the darkness less dark_  
_You make the edges less sharp_  
_You make the winter feel warmer_  
_And you make my weakness less weak_  
_You make the bottom less deep_  
_You make the waiting feel shorter_  
_You make my crazy feel normal, every time_  
_You are the who, love is the what, and this is the why_  
  
_You keep the ship moving forward_  
_And you make it easy to try_  
_You make my crazy feel normal, every time_  
_You are the who, love is the what,_  
_and this is the why_  
_You are the who, love is the what,_  
_and this is the why_  
_You are the who, love is the what,_  
_and this is the why_  
  
  
_This is Why I Need You_  
_**Jesse Ruben**_

 

She watched from the settee as the seamstress finally stood back and allowed those gathered to see the finished product of Margaery in her wedding dress. With the addition of the long veil, Dany had to hold back awed tears. Her new friend was absolutely stunning, the dress hugging her flawless curves. Thankfully, the baby wasn’t showing yet.

__

“Are you happy, my dear?” Olenna asked to which Margaery only nodded, smoothing her hands down the light beading that covered the front of her dress.

__

Olenna moved to the front of the store, paying for the dress then joined them again. “I’d love to stay, darling, but I have tea with Wylla Manderly and you know how she’ll complain if I’m late.” Margaery waved her off and left a kiss on her cheek. “A few more days, my dear, and we can put all this stuff with the Lannisters behind you.”

__

Once she was gone Dany gave Margaery a bright smile. “Robb won’t know what to do when he sees you in this.”

__

She chuckled. “He had better remember where he is and not do anything stupid.”

__

“He’ll be so stunned by your beauty I think he’ll find it hard to breathe.”

__

Margaery laughed and allowed the soft fabric at her feet to swirl. “It is beautiful, isn't it?”

__

“So very beautiful. Go take it off so we can leave with it. We still need to drive out to Highgarden to stash it.”

__

They left the dress shop shortly after, the soon-to-be bride’s happy mood rubbing off on her. She couldn't help but think about her future with Jon. She’d told him she intended to stay, and she did, but the long-term plans, to _be_ with him, meant that sometime soon she could be planning her own wedding. The thought made her heart nearly take flight, wanting nothing more than to grow old with the man she loved.

__

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my ex-wife,” a snide voice came from behind them.

__

Margaery froze beside her and Dany knew without ever laying eyes on him it was Joffrey. They both turned to find him, and five other men, closing in on them. They were quickly surrounded.

__

“Out shopping I see,” he drolled. His eyes cut to Dany and she found his smirking face quite deceiving. Piercing blue eyes set in a young, almost angelic face. But she knew underneath a monster was hidden. “You must be the new school teacher. I can see why Ramsay has taken such an interest in you.”

__

“What do you want?” Margaery asked finally, her fingers digging into Dany’s arm. The other men were slowly angling them into an alley, but Dany stood her ground and didn’t allow Margaery to move anymore either.

__

Joffery’s eyes hardened as his gaze turned back to her friend. She could feel Margaery trembling and wondered how many she could actually take with her knife before they were overrun.

__

“Can’t I have a visit with my ex-wife?”

__

The cocking of a gun sounded in the alleyway behind them. It echoed theatrically off the brick walls. “Listen here, you little shit,” a familiar voice said. Once her heart had started again, Dany smiled slyly at Joffrey's stunned expression. “Get your boys to back off,” Bronn told him, “or I’ll make it so Grandpa Tywin can see straight through to daylight when he sees you next.”

__

One of the men took a step forward, reaching into his coat. Bronn had moved in front of her and Margaery. He produced another gun. “Try me, fucker.”

__

The other man stepped back, hands held up in surrender, while Joffery sneered. “You won’t get away with this,” he threatened, his nasal voice quaking a bit.

__

“Oh yes, I will. Margaery, Dany, get in the car.” Bronn uncocked his second gun, tucking it back into his vest and grabbed Joffery, sticking the other gun barrel to his back. “And to ensure that your little gang here doesn’t follow us, I’m bringing you as collateral,” he said walking him to their car. He opened the door and handed the second gun to Margaery. “Love, keep this pointed at him while we get in and if he does anything, shoot him.”

__

Margaery took the gun as Dany started up the engine. “Just so you know,” he said to Joffrey’s men, as he shoved him in the back seat, “you follow us, I’ll send his balls to Tywin. They’ll never find the rest of him and it’ll be all your fault.”

__

Bronn climbed in and didn’t have the door closed good before he ordered her to drive. Margaery stayed turned in the seat, the gun pointed at Joffrey. Her trembling had stopped.

__

“You’ve made things so much worse for yourself,” Joffery laughed.

__

Bronn chuckled right back. “I’d keep my mouth closed if I was you. I will cut your tongue out to save myself the headache of hearing you talk.”

__

On the outskirts of town, Bronn asked her to pull over. Gun still on Joffrey, he shoved him out of the car. “Fore you go too far, give me your shoes.”

__

“I’m not giving you my shoes,” Joffery scoffed.

__

“Yes, you are.” He pressed the barrel against his forehead. “Give me your shoes, now.” Joffrey hesitated for only a moment before he did as ordered and gave his shoes over. “Walk into the woods.”

__

Her heart was in her throat, certain Bronn was about to kill him, and already imagining the host of problems that would cause. But Joffrey did as he was ordered and Bronn climbed back into the car.

__

“Get us outta here, love. Straight to Highgarden.”

__

She slammed the pedal to the floor, eyes glued to the rearview mirror. Joffrey stormed from the woods, face beet red, fists clenched as he screamed after them. “This is bad,” she breathed, hating the tremor in her voice.

__

“Yes, it is. Which is why we’re going to need some extra help gettin’ you ladies home.”

__

*~*

__

“Why did you take his shoes?” Olenna asked as she watched Mace get behind the wheel of his car while Garlan and Loras climbed into the car with her and Margaery, all of them armed to the teeth.

__

“I wanted it to take him longer to walk back to town,” Bronn said, passing her the shoes. “I’m sure you can get rid of them.”

__

Olenna took them and handed them off to Willas. “Get rid of what?”

__

“Crafty ole bird,” he said with a wink, climbing into the car with them. He took the rifle from Loras and loaded it, telling her to drive again.

__

She got them quickly out of Highgarden and onto the main road, Mace keeping up with her. The frantic alarm that had been ringing through every inch of her began to fade, leaving her shaken and exhausted. She glanced at Margaery. Her friend looked much the same, pale, fidgety, and somehow smaller. Dany reached over and squeezed her hand. They smiled at one another, strained but strengthening and both took a cleansing breath. Bolstered, she turned them onto the road up the mountain, hoping they made it in time to warn the others something bad could be coming.

__

They crested the top of the hill and found Davos already there, standing at his car speaking to Jon and Robb. Heart kicking up again, she pulled into the yard and killed the engine, focused on the pair of wide worried eyes that had locked onto her. He had her door open and was pulling her out and into his arms a moment later.

__

“I'm alright, I'm alright,” she whispered, clinging to him as tight as he was her. His heart beat like a war drum under her ear, his breathing ragged. She rubbed his back to calm them both and pulled away enough look at him. He needed to see. “I’m alright. We all are,” she told him, firm but gentle.

__

The fear in his eyes melted into relief. He closed them and leaned his forehead to hers. “Scared me to death,” he breathed out.

__

“I'm sorry.”

__

He straightened, looking down at her sternly. “If I can't apologize for em, neither can you.”

__

A small smile forced its way up, quirking her mouth. “Fair enough.” He placed a kiss on her forehead and tucked her into his side. “Sheriff,” she greeted Davos since Jon had eased his grip on her.

__

“You ladies alright?”

__

Margaery was still holding onto Robb so she answered for them. “Shaken and angry, but not hurt.”

__

Davos nodded. “Relieved to hear that,” he replied, then cleared his throat. “Where’re Joffrey’s shoes?”

__

Margaery came out of hiding then, looking at Dany and Bronn. “What are you talking about?”

__

“Joffrey claims you took his shoes when you _kidnapped_ him. Where are they?”

__

“We didn’t kidnap him,” Dany lied.

__

The older man heaved a sigh. “He says that he was chattin’ with you–”

__

“Threatening,” Margaery clarified.

__

“I figured that. But he's claimin’ Bronn held a gun to his head and pointed one in Meryn’s face and threatened to kill him if he didn’t go with you.”

__

“Now, that’s just a blatant lie, Sheriff,” Bronn cut in. “I told him to leave the ladies alone. I never said I’d kill him.”

__

“So you don’t have his shoes?”

__

“No, sir.”

__

“What are the Tyrells doing here?”

__

“Father has come to see the preparations we’ve made for the wedding,” Margaery offered.

__

“Armed?”

__

“Wild animals roam these woods,” Mace harrumphed. “Can’t be too careful.”

__

“Why’d you go to Highgarden?”

__

“I picked up my wedding dress and veil today,” Margaery answered. “You can ask the clerk in the store. We can’t keep it here in case Robb sees it before the wedding.”

__

Robb wrapped his arm around Margaery’s shoulders and nodded. “We have enough bad luck without invitin’ more, Sheriff.”

__

Davos eyed them all one by one, doing his best to appear authoritarian. He failed, finally breaking into a knowing smirk.

__

*~*

__

The bed protested beneath her, creaking and popping. She winced, slowing her movements as she eased herself to her feet. After a glance at Jon, who was thankfully still sleeping peacefully, she padded from the room as quietly as she could, only a few floorboards squeaking on her way to the living room. He’d been more than a little broody since the excitement that afternoon and nothing she'd said or done had eased the shadows from his eyes. She hated it. Not being able to pull even the smallest of smiles from him had left her restless and fretting, hence her midnight excursion.

__

She found pen and paper in their secretary then went to the kitchen table, careful to not let the chair scrub across the floor as she pulled it out and took a seat. She couldn't wait any longer. It wasn't just her that needed protecting now.

__

_My dearest Missandei,_

__

_How I have missed you and your ever wise counsel! You’re the breath of fresh air this town really needs. I’ve gotten settled, gathered important information, and know far more now than I did in Boston._

__

_First, the good news. I’m in love. And I don’t mean the love I had with Drogo. I mean true, sweet, love. He’s the most beautiful man, inside and out. He’s everything you’ve ever heard about a southern gentleman. I could write you letter upon letter about him and his gentle heart, his soulful eyes, and his sweet kiss. Each one would fill a book. He doesn’t look at me as a prize. He treats me like the woman he loves, as if he’s starving of oxygen and I’m his last breath. I’ve never felt more loved, more treasured by anyone in my life. I love him. God, do I love him!_

__

_His name is Jon Snow. He’s the older brother of one of my students. The little boy is the sweetest little angel, complete with bright blue eyes and a mop of curly hair. I’ll admit I love that little boy. He’s only a few years older than Rhaego would have been. He lets me cuddle him, sing to him, read him stories. I get to actually feel what it would have been like to be a mother. It makes me miss mine all the more. Although, she wouldn’t have approved of Jon. He’s not rich, in fact, his family is rather poor. He lives with his three brothers, one of which had polio and is confined to a chair. He’s a sweet boy. An old soul, as you would say. I’ve been sharing books with him. The older brother, Robb, I don’t know all that well yet, but I do know he’s fiercely protective of his family and I’ve made friends with his future wife. You’d love her! She’s quick-witted and brave, like you. And then there’s the little sister who scares most people. She and her husband live on the property, too._

__

_These people have become my family and I feel the overwhelming need to protect them. They’re in a bad way with the Lannisters and another family, the Boltons, though I do feel a sense of responsibility for that one. Made an enemy my first day into town because I wouldn’t let this cretin help me home. Jon’s sister and brother-in-law saved me from him and he’s been horrible ever since. When I see you, I will give you a full accounting of what’s happened._

__

_That is the reason I’m writing. I need you. The Khalasar promised me they would help me, and now I need it. I have enclosed directions to Winter’s Peak, the mountain where Jon lives if you get here and I’m not at my house or the school. Make haste, my friend. I don’t know how much longer things will remain relatively peaceful before they explode._

__

_I can hardly contain my excitement to see you, again. I miss you! I miss our talks, our laughter, and our whispering behind Grey’s back that made him so uncomfortable._

__

_Love always, your friend,_

_Dany_

__

Just as she was folding the letter, heavy, hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway. She looked up, startled, to find Jon wild-eyed and panting, stumbling into the kitchen, tugging his shirt on. His boots were unlaced, britches nearly falling off his slim hips, hair a black riot around his pale face. She wanted to laugh, but as he stared back at her she couldn't.

__

He'd stopped at seeing her, a great breath leaving him. His whole body shuddered with it. Sleep filled surprise wasn’t all that was in his wide dark gaze, but terror as well. The kind that wound tight within one's stomach, clenching and twisting it into sickening knots. He took a few slow steps toward her, fingers fidgeting at his sides. When the dim light from over the kitchen sink washed across his face she caught the sheen of sweat covering his brow.

__

Doubt gone and knowing his pain all too well, she pushed her chair away from the table and motioned him over with a flick of her fingers. He didn’t take the offer, instead of running his hands over his face as he took a deep breath and shoved his clinging curls back from his forehead. He turned away, heading toward the hallway again, only to spin back around, his face hidden by his hands once more. It took everything she had not to get up and go to him, but she knew it was best to let him make the choice, his nerves weren't ready to be pushed.

__

Bronn and Robb came out of the darkness behind him, both on silent feet, half dressed, guns in hand, and looking nearly as frightened as Jon. She gave a shake of her head, scowling at them. Robb didn't seem to want to leave, but at her fierce glare and pointing finger, Bronn shoved him away, Jon none the wiser.

__

His hands shook as he slid them off his face and settled them on his hips, inky eyes large and liquid once he opened them to meet hers.

__

Her heart gave a painful squeeze. “Jon. Come here,” she whispered.

__

He listened that time, her words seeming to release him from his self-imposed bonds. Even with his head down she could see his brow pinched harshly, those full lips pressed between his teeth as he came to her, dropping to his knees at her feet. He laid himself in her lap, his arms wrapping around her, head pressed into her stomach. She gathered him close, rubbing his back with one hand, the other stroking through his messy curls.

__

She allowed him several minutes to calm. His breathing was still uneven, his shirt warm and damp under her hand. “Nightmare?” she whispered once she felt he'd recovered enough. He only nodded, not yet ready to leave his spot. “I'm sorry. I have them too.” She smoothed his hair from his face. “Sometimes it helps me to talk about them,” she coaxed gently.

__

The tension around her loosened as he released her gown from his fists and slowly sat back on his haunches. He propped an elbow on his knee and dropped his face into his hand, rubbing his eyes. She stood up, drawing him from his hiding place. Smiling softly at his fretful frown, she took his hand and pulled him to his feet, maneuvering him into the chair, then herself into his lap. She didn't press, just held him, his head against her chest, letting him have his comfort and taking her own. When he was ready, he'd tell her.

__

The crickets trilled outside, their nightly call comforting, broken only occasionally by the soft hoot of an owl. Her toes grew cold. The mountain was firmly in autumn's grasp, the air holding a crisp chill even inside the house. The faint ticking of the mantle clock kept double-time to their slow breathing.

__

“Why’d ya get up?” he finally asked, voice no more than a blurry croak.

__

“I miss my friend, so I wrote her a letter telling her all about you. I'm sorry I was gone.” He swallowed. It sounded thick, almost a struggle. She slipped her fingers into the soft fine hairs at the nape of his neck, scraping her nails against his scalp. It had relaxed him in the past, hopefully, it would again. “Do you have them often?”

__

He shrugged. “Not as much as I used to. Not since you.”

__

She tried to hold in the whimper, but didn't manage it as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Now that you mention it, I haven't had as many lately either.” He squeezed her, letting out a hot breath across her chest. “Mine are always the same. Are yours?” She needed to keep him talking if he would.

__

He cleared his throat and shifted a bit beneath her. “Usually, but this one...was different.” His hold had tightened, his arms coming up her back and pressing her closer. He buried his nose in her neck, breathing deep. “He had you.” She didn't have to ask who _he_ was. “I got a letter. The bee pins were in the envelope. There was blood on em. It said… He told me…”

__

She took his face in her hands and kissed his worried brow. “Shhhh, it's alright. I can guess, you don't have to say it.”

__

A strangled sort of sound left him, clawing at her own throat. “I woke up and you weren't there, I thought–”

__

She shushed him again, stroking his jaw. “I'm right here. I'm so sorry I scared you.”

__

Jon kissed her then, a desperate thing that stole her breath and broke her heart. His fingers grasping her hair, cheeks wet against hers. He broke away with a gasp, pressing their foreheads together. “Dany, if he… If somethin’ ever happened to you–”

__

She placed a finger over his lips and shook her head. “It won't. Nothing will take me away from you, I won't let it. I promise.”

__

“You can't promise that, no better than I can.”

__

Pulling away, she took his face in her hands. “Listen. My letter to Missy wasn't just to tell her about you. I've told them it's time to come and put end to all of this. A few more weeks and it will all be over. We'll be safe. Every one of us. We just need to hang on a bit longer.”

__

Nodding, he took her hand in his, pressing his lips to her palm. He looked at her, pained and regretful. “I'm sorry.”

__

She shook her head, scowling at him. “Don't you dare. There's nothing to be sorry for,” she assured him with a kiss, then tucked his curls behind his ears. “Want to go back to bed? I could fix you a glass of warm milk first.”

__

He took another deep breath and slowly released it, shaking his head. “I'll be alright if you're comin’ too.”

__

She stood and took his hand, pulling him to his feet and led them back to bed.

__

_*~*_

__

Jon had been in better spirits that morning having woken her well before daylight and making slow, sweet love to her before the rest of the house was roused from their beds. They had a lively breakfast with the family then he had loaded her and Rickon up and taken them to school. He'd left them quickly though, heading into town to visit Tormund and pick up supplies.

__

It was early yet, only a few of her students having arrived for the day. Rickon was busy playing, so she took a moment to send her letter off to Missandei, keeping a watchful eye on the children as she did.

__

Confusion filled her as soon as she opened the box, the metal rusty and screeching, then realization sunk in, filling her with a sickening mixture of fear and rage. There, inside her box was a slip of paper, a dead and decapitated lizard lying on top of it.

__

She reached in with a trembling hand and quickly pulled out the paper. The lizard fell at her feet, hitting the dirt with a quiet smack, leaving a trail of dark blood behind on the paper. She stepped back, taking a cleansing breath in hopes of soothing the churning in her stomach. The children needed her calm. More had arrived, she let their happy cries and laughter bolster her and opened the slip of paper.

__

I so look forward to getting to know you better, Miss Storm. Please accept this gift as a token of my affections in the meantime. I'll be seeing you soon.  
  
_Ever yours,  
_ Ramsay Bolton

__

*~*

__

She was seated on the terrace off Olenna’s parlor with both Tyrell ladies. The second they’d entered the house Margaery had been ordered to put her dress on so Olenna's personal seamstress could take a look at it. Olenna had convinced her to stay at Highgarden the night before the wedding. She considered it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before, but did concede to allow her to get ready on Winter’s Peak. Dany was also being made to stay, as a form of female solidarity. She thought it was more to be a mediator between Margaery and Olenna should it come to that. Which she knew it would.

__

“My dear, you look a million miles away.”

__

Dany looked up to find Margaery and Olenna both staring at her. “Apologies. Lost in thought.”

__

“Bronn has told me a great deal about you. The resources at your disposal. I assume after all that's happened, with your home and such… You've sent for them?”

__

She nodded, biting her tongue to keep from telling them about finding the decapitated lizard in her mailbox that morning. She held back a shudder as well. Ramsay’s threat was real, she felt it in her bones, but the last thing she wanted was to upset Margaery so near her special day, or for Jon to find out and lose his temper. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep him from going after the slimy monster. “I have. It will probably be two weeks before they arrive.”

__

“ _They_. Such an elusive word in times such as these. What exactly can we expect?” Olenna asked.

__

She folded her hands in her lap and sighed. “My father’s closest advisors were also his best friends. Jeor Mormont and his son Jorah. My friends Missandei and Grey Wormwood. And my late husband’s gang. I’m not sure how many of them will make the venture but it should be a good number.”

__

“They hold loyalty to you?”

__

She nodded again. “They do. They call me _Khaleesi_ and themselves my blood riders.” She gave a smirk. “This town isn’t ready for what’s coming. The Lannisters certainly aren’t.”

__

Olenna raised an eyebrow at that. “I look forward to seeing what happens.” Then she heaved a sigh looking up at Margaery. “Your brothers are insisting that they are involved. Your father, too.”

__

Margaery rolled her eyes. “And you told them how foolish that was.”

__

“I did. But you see, my dear, they love you. They want the men who’ve hurt you to suffer as much as I want them to suffer. I’m trying to convince Willas to stay behind, but even he has it in his head that he can hide behind a window or something and fire a weapon.” She sighed again. “Which is all well and good, but won't do a thing unless we can get Tywin away from his rock and up that mountain.”

__

Daenerys smiled. She would reveal just a bit to the two women she had come to trust like family. “I think I might have a solution for that. My father’s words to Tywin the night he refused to help put Janos Slynt in as governor were ‘you shall feel my wrath, Lannister. I’ll bring it to you with fire and blood.’ I imagine he might be intrigued enough to come out of hiding if he gets a letter from a ghost who’s come back to haunt him.”

__

“That puts you in danger,” Margaery fretted.

__

“From the second I walked out of the general store and crossed paths with Ramsay Bolton I’ve been in danger. Ramsay will get his. As will Tywin.”

__

Olenna sipped at her tea. “I hope Ramsay suffers greatly. Tywin too.”

__

Dany smiled. “We shall see.”

__

_*~*_

__

Thunder was still rumbling in the distance, the rain having gentled to a soft patter against her tin roof as she heard Jon enter the house. But she made no move to get out of the tub where she was luxuriating in bubbles.

__

“Dany?”

__

She smiled, calling out to him, “In here.” A giggle escaped her as a bubble flew into the air.

__

“And where is...” he trailed off at finding her in the bathroom, his head poking through the door. He was wet from the rain, his curls shining and heavy, some clinging to his pretty face. His eye was nearly healed and as much as she hated how he got them she couldn't deny the scars left behind only added to his attractiveness. His shirt was clinging to him as well. She could see his nipples through the damp cotton, pebbled from the cold. He was so beautiful it hurt, but the wolflike grin that pulled at his mouth had her squirming beneath the water, that delicious ache he always stirred within her beginning to bloom anew between her thighs. “What a’ve we got here?” he asked, his voice rough and teasing as he walked in.

__

Taking a drag from her cigarette she reached a bubble covered hand up towards him. “I needed to relax. A little excessive indulgence,” she murmured as he took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

__

He sat on the small stool beside the tub, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and wiped the bubbles away between his hands. “Soakin’ in a cast iron tub while it's stormin’ out,” he sighed, shaking his head and giving her a reproving look. It was ruined by his twinkling eyes.

__

“Oh, hush. I waited till the worst was over.” She stretched her leg out, raising her foot towards his face and wiggling her toes. “See, I’m not even wrinkled yet,” she said with a giggle, the whiskey she’d been drinking still soaking through her system.

__

His dark eyes followed the length of her leg to where it disappeared beneath the water. She thought she heard him groan before he looked away and cleared his throat. He went still and reached for the glass she’d left on the sink, a splash of amber liquid resting in the bottom. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. His eyebrows went up, but he put the glass back where he found it.

__

He didn’t look as though he disapproved, but she felt a spike of irritation regardless. She let her leg settle beneath the water again. “I can have a drink every now and then, you know?”

__

That adorable expression he got on his face at times made an appearance, brow wrinkled and pinched, lips pouting, eyes sad. A puppy that had lost his best friend. “You think I care if you have a drink?”

__

She shrugged and went to playing with the bubbles, twirling a finger through them and avoiding his dark penetrating gaze.

__

“Hey,” he said, popping his fingers against the lip of the tub. She gave him her attention, reluctantly. Guilt was crawling through her chest and she wasn't sure if it was from judging him before he could her or for drinking at all. Liquor always made her moods swing all over the place and they’d been sour enough before she took the first sip. “I don't, just so you know,” he said softly. “I run shine, you grew up around speakeasies. I ain’t gonna think bad a’ you for havin’ a drink, alright? Just ain't seen you have one yet is all.”

__

She gave him a weak smile and took another pull on her cigarette while chastising herself for even entertaining the idea he would scold her. Jon was nothing like the other men in her life had been, never would be.

__

He leaned back down onto his elbows, smiling carefully. “So, you feelin’ more relaxed then?”

__

She nodded and hummed, deciding to lighten things before her emotions could drag them down. “I think I’d be even better if you joined me. You might as well, you're all wet anyway.” She glanced at his chest before looking back up into his blackening eyes. “And cold. Wouldn't you like to be nice and warm in here with me?” she asked, sitting up, not bothering to cover her breasts, her nipples drawn tight with arousal and the cool air.

__

He raised an eyebrow as he watched her put her leg up on the side of the tub and prop her arms against the edge, striking a sexy pose. He chuckled and shook his head but began unlacing his boots. He dropped his suspenders next, then pulled his shirt over his head. She leaned back in the bath and gathered the bubbles around herself, enjoying the magnificent view as he stripped out of his pants and shorts. He was her own personal David, pale and perfect, but even better. Warm, and so very alive, his pretty cock already hard for her, standing proud against his muscled stomach. She nearly had to physically restrain herself to keep from taking him in hand. She snuffed out her cigarette in the ashtray on the floor instead.

__

He moved to climb into the tub, so she slid to the opposite end, letting him stretch out before she curled into his arms and lap, her body draped over his. He leaned down and kissed her, his hands gliding across her slick skin, rough and tender all at once. The tension that had been nagging her all day finally began to melt away. Nothing made her feel better than Jon.

__

“This is nice,” he said after a moment. “Never had a bubble bath before.”

__

She grinned against his skin as his fingers laced with hers. “We'll have to do it more often.”

__

“Mmmm, we will,” he agreed, his lips worrying her temple sweetly. “So, I'm guessin’ your afternoon wasn't a good one if it required a drink, a smoke, an’ a bath.”

__

“It really wasn't that bad. Spent a good portion of it with Margaery at Highgarden. Her grandmother is insisting on several things for the wedding that she doesn’t want to agree to, so I believe I was there as a buffer to help back her up.”

__

He chuckled. “The two of you takin’ on Olenna? How’d that go?”

__

“Margaery got her way twice.”

__

“Outta how many?”

__

“Six,” she said with a laugh.

__

“Sounds about right.”

__

“We also discussed the assets at my disposal to help fend off the Lannisters and Boltons,” she added softly. His grip went a bit tighter, lips pressing against her hair. He drew in a shaky breath. She knew he had something to say and she had enough drink in her system to press him about it. She sat up some and combed back his messy curls with her fingers. “Speak up, Jon. I know you have thoughts.”

__

He heaved a sighed as his hand slid down her side to rest on her hip. “They comin’?”

__

She nodded and nuzzled against the pulse in his throat. “I’m going to protect what’s mine,” she said as she pressed a kiss over the steady thumping beneath his skin. “I claimed you, remember?” She ran her fingers lightly over his ribs where she knew fading bruises still marred his pale skin. “If someone hurts you or yours, that hurts me.”

__

He turned his head and caught her mouth in a kiss. She teased his lips with her tongue, sliding her hand slowly down his stomach to his cock, humming as she pulled away and stroked over the hard length. “All mine,” she whispered, trailing kisses along his neck. “You’re all mine and I’m keeping you forever,” she murmured.

__

He captured her cheek with his free hand, his dark eyes shining at her. The smirk that formed on his face had her smiling. “I think that’s the best fuckin’ idea I ever heard.”

__

She laughed, kissing him again. “Have I ever told you how much I love your dirty mouth?”

__

He shook his head and groaned as she tickled her fingers over the head of his cock. “I can’t think when you’re doin’ that.”

__

She shifted, straddling one of his legs as she held herself up with her other hand on the lip of the tub. Her body tingled. She knew part of it was the whiskey, but most was the way Jon’s eyes roamed over her. His fingers slipped beneath the water and she moaned, his touch sending delicious shockwaves through her nerves.

__

She nearly laughed to see his bubble covered hand slide over her belly up to her breast, but the pinch and pull of his fingers caused a gasp to erupt from her lips. She wanted him in her bed, where they could spread out and spend the night forgetting everything but each other. She leaned forward and kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip as she wiggled against his fingers. “Take me to bed,” she whispered.

__

He grunted, his grip tightening around her hip. “I like that idea too.”

__

“I thought you might,” she laughed softly.

__

He helped her stand, then stood himself, keeping hold of her hand as she stepped out. She grabbed the towel she’d left on the sink and wiped down quickly before turning to dry him off as well, much slower than she did herself. He looked as if he was trying to swallow a rather large rock as she kneeled at his feet, running the towel down his legs, then up again, stopping to take special care of his lovely cock.

__

“Dany,” he gasped, “we’re not gonna make it to bed if you keep that up.”

__

She couldn't resist anymore and took him in hand, guiding him to her mouth. All the muscles in his lovely stomach clenched tight, a sudden hiss being sucked between his teeth as she ran her tongue around the plump head. She loved using her mouth on him, watching him come undone with each stroke of her tongue, nearly losing himself completely when she slid him to the back of her throat. She’d yet to get him to finish this way, no matter how she offered. He wouldn't say why, but he always insisted on being buried between her thighs. Not that she minded. He took her torture gladly though, just as he was now, hands gripped in her hair, holding it back, those narrow hips surging forward gently while he moaned and groaned, watching her with eyes black as midnight.

__

He drove her wild. She could see the fierce hunger, the need boiling beneath his surface, the one that told him to take and ravage. He wouldn't though, not until she allowed it. He would keep it leashed, holding back at the very edge. Knowing that, knowing he would always put her needs before his own…it broke her and healed her all at once, filling her with a consuming fire, a want to please him as much as he did her.

__

Sliding her hands up the back of his thighs, she palmed his plump cheeks, squeezing, letting her nails bite into the soft skin and hard muscle beneath, bringing him closer so she could take him deeper. She swallowed when he met her throat and his knees buckled, a strained, low-pitched groan reverberating through the small space as his fingers fisted almost painfully in her hair.

__

She encouraged him, meeting each thrust of his hips until she felt him swell and harden further, her name a desperate plea ripped from his throat. He tried to pull away, but she held fast, trapping him. Her eyes watered, the air was in short supply, but still, she worked him, intent on pulling him to the edge and pushing him over.

__

“Dany, please,” he begged, muscles trembling beneath her hands, his own finally giving in and pulling her closer, his hips jerking forward.

__

She hummed around him and he broke, his hot seed spilling down her throat. She drank him down, breathing through each erratic thrust until he was spent on wobbly legs.

__

Releasing him gently, she gasped, wiping the tears away and licking him from her lips. When she stood he was panting, breaths heavy, his sinful mouth parted, eyes pitchy and wild as they stared at her. She allowed herself a satisfied smirk as she stood up and stroked his cheek. “I thought you were taking me to bed,” she whispered, trying desperately to hold back the tremor of desire the sight of him invoked.

__

He didn't speak, only growled and bent to pick her up in his arms, his sooty eyes hungry and never leaving hers as he carried her to her room. She laid against him, hidden in his neck, his beard rough against her cheek, imagining the scrape of it between her tender thighs. He would no doubt repay her in spades once he had her laid out in her bed.

__

Her lovely thoughts were interrupted when he stopped. “Dany…”

__

He sounded quite confused so she raised her head to see what was wrong, and immediately let out a chafed curse, “Shit.”

__

Jon chuckled, walking toward her displaced bed and the gaping hole she’d left in the floor beside it. He released her legs, letting her down gently until she was kneeling on the bed while he stared at her stockpile. Her stash of money was there, dozens of neatly stacked bundles piled on top of the weapons she’d brought. Two guns and a few knives. There were a couple of bottles of her father's whiskey as well. A third sat on the floor, half empty. But Jon didn't seem to notice any of those things, focused on something else entirely as he sank down onto the balls of his feet and reached inside the hole pulling out the object that had caught his rapt attention.

__

It was a picture. Of her, and her brothers. Her mother had spent a fortune to have it done in color, wanting to see her beautiful children in all their glory. It had been taken just before she was to marry Drogo. Her young face peering out of the frame was childlike, soft, round, and sullen. Jon never made a sound or uttered a word, he only stared, his thumb running over her long silver tresses. Finally, he rose and sat down beside her on the bed, but still mute. There was a sweet smile on his face though as if he had just found a treasure that was meant only for him.

__

“Jon?”

__

He looked up, mesmerized, then he reached over and pulled the pins loose from her hair, letting it fall free. His fingers ran through it, pulling some of it around to lay across her shoulder. Those dark eyes studied her a bit longer then glanced back at the pale girl in the picture.

__

“Well?” she asked, “you’ve seen it now. What do you think?”

__

His eyes met hers again, lustrous pools full of love, then his fingers were in her hair once more, brushing some behind her ear. “You're the most beautiful thing the good Lord ever made,” he whispered, “don't matter what color your hair is.”

__

Her dam broke then, one of the many cracks that had been steadily forming splitting wide enough to let the tears flow through. She ducked her head, resting it against his shoulder and bit back a sob.

__

“Hey now,” he cooed, his arms wrapping around her. “I know I ain't the best at choosin’ the right words, but surely I didn't mess that one up.”

__

She laughed despite her tears and shook her head. “You didn't,” she breathed, trying and failing to hold back more.

__

He laid her down and pulled the quilt over them as he joined her. The room was chilly thanks to the damp air flowing up through the hole in the floor. Gathering her close, he settled her against his chest, holding her head gently, his lips pressed into her hair. “What a pair we are,” he murmured, once her tears had faded to sniffles. She huffed, because they certainly were. “Wanna talk about it?”

__

“I don't know. I don't know why I'm such a mess today,” she grumbled, wiping at her eyes.

He gave an amused chuff. “Me either, it ain't like you got any weight on your shoulders or nothin’.” She shoved at him, craning her head back to cut him a dirty look. He smirked back at her, but it quickly faded to a frown as he brought a hand up to her face. His fingers ran into her hair, his thumb running across her damp cheekbone. “Tell me. What good am I if you can't talk to me? Lord knows I've dumped all my troubles on you.”

__

“Jon,” she scolded, then kissed him. Just her lips pressed to his, lingering and soft, breathing deep, letting his heart fill hers, hoping he felt her love as much as she did his. She pulled away, meeting his worried gaze. “Everything good in my life is because of you,” she whispered. “Don't ever doubt it, alright?”

__

“Alright,” he agreed with a nod and kiss, then patiently waited for her to decide if she was ready or not.

__

She didn't make him wait long, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. “It's not that I can't talk about it, it's just…” Her eyes fell to his chest. She ran a fingertip over his scar. “I can barely admit it to myself.”

__

“Try me first,” he offered gently, a soothing hand sliding up her side. “Maybe that'll make it easier.”

__

She glanced at him, finding his expression open, not an ounce of teasing present, just pure, honest love. “I’m scared,” she finally admitted. His brow wrinkled, his arms pulling her closer. She hurried on before she lost her nerve, or he could stop her. “I promised myself, after I lost them all, I’d never be scared again, I couldn't be. It would make me weak. I would never end Tywin that way. I had nothing to lose then, but now…”

__

He gathered her against him, letting out a sigh. “Yeah, I know. I’d be doin’ things a lot different if it weren't for the risks to you and my family. Probably would've killed em all by now and be sitting in a cell waitin' to be hanged, if I wasn't dead already.”

__

There was an edge to his tone by the end, one she recognized in her heart. He wanted nothing more than to kill Tywin and all of his lackeys, to watch their life's blood soak into the ground. Ice cold dread filled her veins. She pushed him to his back, hovering over him. “Please don't, Jon. Promise me you won't go after them alone.”

__

“I won't, lass. The last thing I want is to leave you alone in the world again.”

__

“You promise?”

__

“I promise.”

__

He pulled her down against his chest and she let the steady beat of his heart subdue her fears. His fingers slid along her back and up into her hair, sending pleasing shivers through her. All the whiskey, smokes, and hot baths in the world couldn't compare to just a minute in his arms. Nothing was better.

__

“I know some of the things he done you didn't like,” his voice rumbled under her, “but our Pa was a good man. Knew how the world worked. He told me and Robb somethin’ the day we left for the war. He knew we were scared shitless. We tried to hide it, but we couldn't ever hide nothin’ from him. He told us, 'the only time a man can be brave is when he's afraid.’ So, it's alright if you're scared, I’d be worried if you wasn't. I know I am.”

__

She propped herself up and brushed her fingers against his cheek, thinking maybe his uncle wasn’t quite the idiot she’d thought. “I lived so long knowing what my path was, my ultimate goal. I didn’t care about the after part. I thought, if I lived, I would go back to Boston and try to pick up the pieces of me I left behind.” She tilted her head and looked at him, giving a small smile even as tears welled in her eyes. “I _thought_ I left the pieces behind. But finding you, loving you and you loving me… They were all still with me. You mended them back together.”

__

He brought her down to his lips and kissed her, slow and deep. She felt it in every nook and cranny, to the very ends of her and down into the spaces between her bones. Finally, he broke away to breathe, but his chocolate eyes took her in for the longest time, keeping her trapped in a lovely haze. Then he pulled her to the surface, brushing her hair from her face. “I know what you mean. I ain’t never felt whole before you.”

__

She smiled and shook her head, wanting to ignore how vulnerable she felt, the rush of tears swelling to a torrent within her. She deflected the emotions away, locked them inside where they weren’t able to hurt, or heal. All she wanted, at that moment, was to bask in the love of the man that held her.

__

“We’re completely ignoring the fact that we’re very naked,” she teased as she climbed onto him.

__

Jon’s eyes flashed with concern, but he didn’t make her talk anymore. Instead, he pulled her down and pressed her lips to his. She could feel him stirring again. The feel of his body beneath her was as soothing as it was arousing. This man and his open, loving heart had her undone.

__

Moving her lips along his neck down to his chest, she wrapped her hand around his cock and flicked her tongue across his nipple. His eyes darkened as he let out a long groan. She continued her pursuit, kissing some of his scars, until she came to the bruises at his ribs. Anger burned within her at the sight them. Someone had hurt him and every one of them would pay. Violently. But him. _Him_ she would soothe. She pressed her lips gently against the fading bruise.

__

“Lass, ya can’t kiss em away as much as I want that,” he rasped, sitting up and pulling her into his arms. “I wish I could make all a’ this go away and we could just be together without havin’ to watch our backs.” He brushed her hair off her shoulders and her heart ached to see the pain in his dark eyes. “But I can’t. An’ neither can you. Not much longer though, remember?”

__

She kissed him again, shaken he could read her so well. She could sense his reluctance, his touch less sure, kisses lighter. He didn’t like her avoiding the conversation, but she needed him. His mouth, his hands, all of him. She needed him to love her, touch her, to take it all away. “I know, but we can forget for a while. Can't we?” she whispered, kissing her way up his scruff covered jaw to the spot below his ear that always made him shudder.

__

“Yeah. We can, for a bit,” he answered, voice dropping lower.

__

She moved from on top of him and slid to the bed at his side, draping her thigh over his as he laid down. Their lips collided again, the draw too strong to fight. Pressed against him, feeling his callused hands move along her body brought her more comfort than anything else could.

__

They broke apart, both panting, but he continued on, the teasing touch of his lips moving down her throat to her breast leaving gooseflesh in its wake. Her fingers tangled in his thick curls as he lifted it to his lips then she gasped, the heat of his mouth and tongue branding her as he licked and sucked at the pebbled flesh.

__

He drifted to the other, showering it with the same dedicated attention. Then suddenly he rolled her to her side, pulling her back against his chest. He lifted her leg, hooking it over his. Then his fingers found her wet flesh, slipping through the swollen folds and centering on her bundle of nerves. Each circle he made was shot with flame, building her fire to an inferno. His name was pulled from her in a strangled breath as his other hand cupped her breast, fingers pinching at the nipple.

__

“More,” she gasped, reaching back and clutching his hair. His beard scratched across her shoulder as he left scorching kisses there, while his fingers kept up their torment. She arched her back just a bit and moaned as the hot length of him slid through her folds. The growl in her ear had her rocking against him, wanting to hear it again. “More, Jon,” she demanded, needing him to end her torture and bury himself inside her. The ache was maddening.

__

He turned her chin toward him and took her mouth in another kiss, stealing what little breath she had. She grasped at his hip as he finally pushed forward and split her open, filling her to her depths in one eager stroke. She cried out in relief, but then he began to move and the ache only grew stronger.

__

His hands roamed her body, sliding over every inch of skin he could reach as she rocked back against him, each slow thrust he took her with feeling better than the one before. The arm beneath her wrapped around her shoulders, holding her back against him. With the other hand, he grabbed her hip, forcing her to keep his pace. She closed her eyes, wanting to feel all of it, to let him push everything else away, to take her where only he could. Where nothing mattered but them.

__

All too soon, yet not soon enough, he did. His grip left her waist and drifted along her lower belly. Her toes curled in anticipation, knowing the delight his talented fingers would inflict on her little nub. The pressure built the closer he got and it only took a brief touch for her to whimper, then his roughened voice tumbled into her ear, “Come for me, lass.” She fell apart in his arms, moaning his name loud enough for the heavens to hear, letting the darkness swallow her.

__

Jon gasped as he clutched her tighter, burying his face against her shoulder and followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing as he released inside her. A bubble of sadness raked through her knowing nothing would come of it this time, but she refused to cry, again. Instead, she pulled his arms around her tighter, laying as they were, tangled and sated in one another. Soon, she would have to climb from the bed and clean herself up, but for the moment, she would bask in _them_.

__

She turned her head and kissed his cheek as she entwined her fingers with his. “I love you,” she whispered.

__

He pressed a kiss to her lips, then rested his head against hers. “I love you, too, lass. More than I got any right to.”

__

“You’re the only one I’m giving permission, Jon. You and me, together, against the world.”

__

He chuckled and she got another kiss. “The world should beware. I got a feelin’ you’re gonna set it on fire if it don’t please ya.”

__

She nodded. “I would. For you I would,” she said softly.

__

*~*

__

A feral growl sounded through the quiet room, followed by a small but meaty thwack.

__

“Ow! You little brat, cut it out!”

__

She knew without even looking up who the culprit was. He had not been having a good day. This would be the third time she'd had to reprimand him. He'd been sour from the moment Gendry had dropped him off that morning. Wouldn't even spare her, nor Jon, a look or hello.

__

“Rickon. I think it's time you joined me up here, please.”

__

He cut Lommy a hateful glare before getting up and shuffling to her desk. She pointed to the chair she had placed beside it just for that purpose. “Have a seat.” He climbed up and flopped himself down, his little mouth all pinched and surrly. She bit her lip to contain her grin and went back to her papers. Thankfully they only had another half hour to go.

__

He huffed and sighed the whole thirty minutes, squirming and kicking the chair legs with his toes at least a hundred times. She held onto her patience knowing it wasn't easy being six. Finally, it was time to ring the bell and send all the rest of them home. She ordered Rickon to stay put, she'd come to get him when she was done seeing the other children off.

__

Jon and Margaery pulled up as she waved goodbye to the last one, Ghost and Shaggydog sitting in the bed of the truck. He'd be taking her and Marg to Highgarden for the night. As much as she'd miss him, she was looking forward to sharing in Margaery's excitement and having some girl time. She walked up to the pair, both of who were wearing concerned frowns as they scanned the schoolyard looking for their young charge.

__

“Where's he at?” Jon asked as she joined them.

__

“He's fine, don't worry. I left him inside to wait for me, he had a rough day,” she explained.

__

“You didn't have another scare, did you?” Margaery asked, fretful.

__

Dany shook her head waving her hands. “No, no, nothing like that. He's put out about something I think. Did you notice how sullen he was this morning?” she asked them.

__

“What'd he do? I'll tear his hind end up,” Jon grumbled, stepping forward.

__

She put a hand to his chest, giving him a defiant glare. “ _You will not_ . You're going to wait here and let me get to the bottom of it, and _then_ we'll decide if he needs any more punishment.” He looked properly chastised and gave her a nod, while Margaery turned her head to hide her twisted smirk. “Give me a few minutes and you can join us.”

__

Rickon was where she'd left him, still pouting, but playing with the dragon Bran had given her. He quickly put it down and folded his hands in his lap as soon as she walked in. She went to him, bending down and picking him up under his arms to stand in the chair so they could be eye to eye. He stared at his boots instead. She lifted his chin and waited for his big eyes to meet hers. Reluctantly, they finally did. “Are you ready to tell me where my sweet Rickon has gone and why this sourpuss has taken his place?” she asked.

__

His little face scrunched up, his fists balled at his sides. “I don't like it when y'all stay at your house. Ya s'pose ta stay at home with us,” he pouted, stamping his foot.

__

She bit back a laugh, pressing her lips tightly between her teeth. He was so grumpy she couldn't help but think of Jon, with his broody scowl, and sullenness. It hit her then, looking at him and his rusty curls, eyes only a few shades different from hers; if a stranger were to see the three of them together they would never suspect he wasn't theirs. He was nearly a perfect mix of her light coloring and Jon's dark. What spun her senses the most was knowing he very well could be a glimpse at what the future could hold for them.

__

She had him smothered against her chest before she knew what she was doing, fighting back a well of tears for what she'd lost and still might have.

__

He flung his little arms around her neck and hugged her tight. “Why don't you stay with us? You s'pose to!”

__

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” she soothed, rubbing his back. “I want to stay with you all the time. I wish I could, but I have work to do here. I have to grade your papers, come up with new things for you to learn. Take care of our school and keep it clean.”

__

He pulled away, scowling at her, apparently none of her excuses suiting him. “But you're part a’ the pack, we s'pose to stay together,” he insisted. “I thought you wanted to be wanna one a’ us. But you just want Jon, and now he don't wanna be one a’ us either.”

__

He may as well have kicked her his words hurt so much. But she needed to push aside her own pain to ease his. Gathering herself as best she could she cupped his face. “I _do_ want to be part of your pack, and your big brother always will be. _Always._ He'd never leave you.”

__

“But he does. He stays with you more ‘an us,” he huffed, crossing his little arms over his chest.

__

She pulled him in and kissed his plump cheek. “Rickon, I want you to know something.”

__

He rubbed at his face wiping off her kiss with a disgruntled frown. “What?” he grumped.

__

The deep clearing of a throat sounded behind them. Rickon's eyes widen, focusing over her shoulder. She turned to see Jon leaning in the front doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, expression stern, but gentle as he looked at Rickon. She wanted to fuss at him, but he and his family had done a fine job raising him so far. Up until today, he had been one of her best-behaved students. After sending Jon a small smile and nod she turned back to Rickon. He was chewing on his bottom lip.

__

“Ma'am?” he tried again.

__

“I want you to know that no matter where Jon and I are,” she took his little hands in hers, “we both love you very much.”

__

Surprise lit his face, but then he was scowling again as if he didn't believe her. “You love me?”

__

“Yes, sweet boy,” she answered, hugging him once more, “I love you very much.”

__

Jon joined them then. “She's right. We love ya, and we miss ya when we can't be with ya, just like you do us.”

__

Rickon's mouth twitched into something not quite a smile, but close. She let him go so Jon picked him up and gave him a hug of his own. “We don't like leavin’ ya, but I can't let Miss Dany be all alone. You got Robb and Miss Margaery, Arya and Gendry, even Bran and Bronn to look after you when I'm gone. We wouldn't be a very good pack if we let Miss Dany stay down here all by herself, now would we?”

__

“No. I don't reckon,” he sighed, laying his head on Jon's shoulder. “You should just marry her when Robb does Margaery,” he muttered, “then she can't stay down here, she'd have ta stay with us.”

__

Dany bit her lip, turning away from them to keep herself collected as a nervous laugh left Jon. When she faced them again he was blushing, whispering in Rickon's ear. She didn't catch it all, but heard something about _needing time to ask her proper._

__

Her heart did a somersault, then fluttered away as if it had sprouted wings. Jon's eyes met hers and though she had already known, had made her choice what felt like ages ago, her future stood before her plain as day his heart pouring out of his beautiful eyes and a peace she'd never experienced sunk deep into the marrow of her bones. She doubted anyone had ever loved another the way she loved him. It just wasn't possible.

__

She tucked herself under his other arm and hugged them both. Jon kissed her head as she smiled up at Rickon. “We're going to let Robb and Margaery have their special day tomorrow, but one day soon, it'll be mine and Jon's turn and then you can have us both all the time. How about that?”

__

“You mean it?”

__

“I mean it.”

__

“Alright then, can we go home now? I'm hungry.”

__

Jon chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry, not yet. We gotta deliver these ladies to Miss Olenna's. More weddin’ stuff.”

__

Rickon collapsed against his shoulder again. “I don't think I like weddin's,” he moaned.

__

Dany smothered a giggle in Jon's chest while he poked at Rickon's stomach. “You might change your mind. I heard tell there's gonna be a surprise waitin’ on you at home.”

__

That perked him up a bit. “What kinda surprise?”

__

“Well, if I told ya it wouldn't be a surprise, now, would it?”

__

His little face twisted up. He was thinking hard. “I don't reckon, but ain't it just as much a surprise now, as it'd be when we get there?”

__

They laughed, unable to argue with his logic. Jon swatted his backside gently. “Go get your tail in the truck, boy,” he said putting him down on his feet. “The sooner we go the sooner you get to eat and see your surprise.”

__

“I'm goin’,” he hollered and took off out the door, running to beat the band.

__

Jon had her in his arms a moment later, staring down at her, a smirk on his sweet face, his pretty eyes warm enough to melt her.

__

“Please stop looking at me like that,” she begged, unable to keep her own smile contained, despite the flood of emotions coursing through her.

__

“Why?”

__

“Because I very well may cry if you don't.”

__

He gently grasped her head in his hands and brought her lips to his. “No cryin’, just kiss me or I may start poutin’, too.”

__

A giggle escaped her and then he was laughing and kissing her all at once and she decided there was nothing better than tasting his happiness. He kissed her lips, each of her cheeks, and then her nose, pressing his forehead to hers.

__

“I love ya, lass.”

__

“I love you too. Now, go,” she shoved at him, her face hurting from her uncontrollable smile, “before I ravage you right here on this floor. My suitcase is in the vestibule. I just need to get my keys and lock up.”

__

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “You could lock us in? I ain't never been ravaged before, sounds fun.”

__

“Jon Snow, you better get,” she fussed.

__

He laughed all the way out the door. She grabbed her keys and hurried after him.

__

Margaery gave her a questioning look once she's made it to the truck. She smiled and squeezed her arm. “He's fine,” she whispered, reassuring her.

__

Rickon had his arm stretched up, letting Shaggydog lick his hand. “Whatcha bring em for, Jon?”

__

Jon ruffled his hair while putting her suitcase in the bed. “Thought you might wanna ride in the back with em on the way to Miss Olenna's.”

__

“Can I, really?” he asked, eyes wide and bright, a smile lighting his face for the first time that day.

__

“Yup, but you gotta stay sittin’ down,” he told him, picking him up swinging him over into the bed. “You stay on your hind end or I'll pull over and tear it up, you hear me?”

__

“Yes'sir, I hear ya. I won't get up,” he promised, hurrying to sit down against the cab of the truck. Ghost and Shaggydog sat down either side of him, ever the protectors.

__

With all of them feeling better, they piled in the truck and Jon drove them out to Highgarden. She and Margaery chatted the whole way, but she kept her hand on Jon's thigh, her heart still tender and needing to feel him close. She’d been looking forward to her night away, but now she would miss him terribly.

__

They arrived all too soon, Loras coming out to take their bags inside. Olenna wasn't far behind him. "Come now, girls, you'll see them both tomorrow. No sense in standing around outside moping. We have lots to do.” While Margaery rolled her eyes, Olenna held up a cookie she'd been hiding in her skirts and passed it to Rickon with a wink, then whacked Jon's leg with her cane. “You tell that brother of yours he best be ready and waiting.”

__

Jon studied her a moment, stuffing his hands in his pockets, then gave a tilt of his head. “He's the one been waitin’ years for the rest a’ ya to be ready. He'll be right where he's supposed to be, don't you worry.”

__

She and Margaery both had to smother their amused shock behind their hands while Olenna eyebrows slowly rose. They had a bit of a stare off, but Jon never backed down. Finally, the Queen of Thorns admitted defeat with a small huff and turned to Dany.

__

“Keep him.”

__

“Oh, I plan to,” she replied as Olenna walked away, her smile just for him.

__

He grinned back and reached over to pick Rickon up from the bed of the truck. “You better give Margaery and Miss Dany a kiss bye, they gotta go.”

__

“I don't wanna,” he mumbled around a mouthful of cookie, laying his head on Jon's shoulder again.

__

Jon whispered something in his ear and while it took a moment, Rickon finally came out of hiding and looked at Margaery. Jon leaned him over toward her and she hugged him tightly, telling him how much she'd miss him and that she loved him, then offered him her cheek. He kissed it, but looked so pained to be doing so they all couldn't help but laugh.

__

Jon hugged and kissed her as well. “Thank you for coming back to him, been ready to call you sister for as long as I can remember.”

__

Margaery kissed his cheek and squeezed his arm. “Thank you for taking care of him when I didn't,” she whispered in return, then hurried inside, wiping at her eyes.

__

Dany took Rickon and gave him hug as well. “I'll see you in the morning. Take care of Jon for me, alright?”

__

“I will.” He kissed her cheek then pressed his face into her ear. “I'll sleep in his bed with em so I know he's okay,” he whispered, then wiggled to be put down as she laughed. She sat him down and when he passed Jon on the way to the truck he tugged on his pants. “Kiss er and let's go. I'm ready for my surprise.”

__

Jon shook his head, smirking as he stepped closer. “All these folks bossin’ me around today.”

__

“It's a good thing you're a patient man,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.

__

He pulled her close and nuzzled into her neck. “Not so patient I don't wanna sneak you outta here while they ain't lookin’.”

__

“Don't tempt me,” she groaned, hiding in his chest, taking in his scent hoping it would hold her over until she saw him again. “Let's just spend the night thinking up ways to make it up to each other.”

__

“That I can do.” He pulled away, his brooding brow firmly in place. “See you in the mornin’.”

__

She kissed his pouty lips willing herself to keep it together. It shouldn't be so hard, it was only one night. “Bright and early,” she whispered.

__

With one more kiss to her forehead, he let her go. She didn't go inside until the rattle of the truck's engine faded away.


	20. You Look Perfect Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb and Margaery get married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Robb and Margaery are dancing to is _Always_ written by Irving Berlin but the version I have in mind is by Patsy Cline. It’s gorgeous. The song that Margaery sings to Rickon is a verse from _Down in the Valley_. 
> 
> We hope you all like this. We liked writing this chapter as its all very sweet

 

**MARGAERY**

_I found a love for me_  
_Darling just dive right in_  
_And follow my lead_  
_Well I found a girl beautiful and sweet_  
_I never knew you were_  
_the someone waiting for me_  
  
_'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_  
_Not knowing what it was_  
_I will not give you up this time_  
_But darling, just kiss me slow,_  
_your heart is all I own_  
_And in your eyes you're holding mine_  
  
  
_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark_  
_with you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass,_  
_listening to our favorite song_  
_When you said you looked a mess,_  
_I whispered underneath my breath_  
_But you heard it,_  
_darling, you look perfect tonight_  
  
_Well I found a woman,_  
_stronger than anyone I know_  
_She shares my dreams,_  
_I hope that someday I'll share her home_  
_I found a love, to carry more_  
_than just my secrets_  
_To carry love, to carry children of our own_  
  
_We are still kids, but we're so in love_  
_Fighting against all odds_  
_I know we'll be alright this time_  
_Darling, just hold my hand_  
_Be my girl, I'll be your man_  
_I see my future in your eyes_  
  
_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark,_  
_with you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass,_  
_listening to our favorite song_  
_When I saw you in that dress,_  
_looking so beautiful_  
_I don't deserve this, darling,_  
_you look perfect tonight_  
  
_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark,_  
_with you between my arms_  
_Barefoot on the grass,_  
_listening to our favorite song_  
_I have faith in what I see_  
_Now I know I have met an angel in person_  
_And she looks perfect_  
_I don't deserve this_  
_You look perfect tonight_  
  
_Perfect_  
_**Ed Sheeran**_

 

She got out of the car on Winter’s Peak, Dany climbing out the other side, holding their dress bags over her arm. Sansa and Arya had been waiting for them on the front porch of the main house. But as soon as they climbed from the car Sansa was rushing down the steps and embracing her. “Finally,” she whispered in Margaery’s ear and that one word nearly had her undone.

__

She pulled back with a smile, tears blurring her eyes. “I’m so glad to see you.”

__

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything. I’ve been wanting you as a sister for as long as I can remember.” She glanced over Margaery’s shoulder, turning her attention to Dany. “Hello, I’m Sansa.”

__

Dany held out her hand. “Dany Storm. Nice to finally meet you.”

__

Her eyebrows raised and her smile grew wider. “Oh, Miss Storm. I’ve heard so much about you in the last day...”

__

“You got here yesterday?” Margaery asked.

__

“Yes. While I love and trust my brothers, I don’t expect them to understand the finer points of setting things up. And when Arya told me you were staying at Highgarden, I convinced Dickon to come early. He’s helping corral Robb away from the house.”

__

“Where exactly?”

__

“Barn,” Arya answered. “They’re under strict orders not to move or touch nothin’.”

__

Two other cars pulled up behind them and Margaery glanced over her shoulder to see it was her grandmother, father, and all three of her brothers. “Why are you standing outside? Inside and dressed,” Olenna ordered the moment she exited her car. They all turned toward the house and headed inside.

__

Arya stepped in front of the men as they moved to take the steps. “Barn,” she demanded.

__

“I beg your pardon?” Mace asked, looking affronted, but Arya crossed her skinny arms over her chest and didn’t move an inch.

__

“Beg it all ya like, but the men are all in the barn. We’ll holler if we need ya,” she said firmly.

__

Loras, Garlan, and even Willas start off in that direction, but her father stood motionless. She stepped forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Can you make sure Rickon stays clean? He likes to roll around in the dirt with his wolf.”

__

His eyes widened and he shook his head with a smile. “Of course, my dear.”

__

She watched him go then made her way into the house, and into her bedroom. “I have something for you,” Dany said as she stepped out of the room and returned soon after with a white box wrapped with a blue ribbon.

__

“What did you do?”

__

Dany grinned. “I might have ordered a gift for you when I heard you were engaged.”

__

Margaery opened the box and found a beautiful set of pearls and a matching pair of earrings. Her heart overfull she looked at Dany, shaking her head. “I can’t accept these.”

__

“You can and you will. It’s your something new.”

__

The others entered the bedroom and she showed them the jewelry. “Look what Dany got me.”

__

Arya looked at them then up at Dany with wide eyes. “Are those real?”

__

She saw Olenna roll her eyes but Dany smiled. “They’re real. Arya, your turn.”

__

The younger girl sighed and pulled a small box from behind her back. Margaery opened it, a blue silk handkerchief sat inside. “That was my Ma’s. Found it in a drawer somewhere,” Arya said not looking at her. “She always liked you. So that’s your somethin’ borrowed.”

__

She was so close to tears that she knew she wasn’t going to make it through this. “Thank you, Arya,” she whispered.

__

Sansa smiled and presented her present next. “And while Arya’s is blue, this is _actually_ your something blue.”

__

Margaery opened the box and gasped. She saw Danys head tilt in confusion at the blue ribbon inside. “Is that?”

__

Sansa smiled. “Yes. This is actually from...”

__

“Robb,” she whispered. The ribbon, the blue ribbon, she’d had in her hair the night before he left for the war. She had told him to take it with him and think of her. She was afraid when they ended things he had destroyed it. That he hadn't, had tears streaming from her eyes.

__

Olenna smiled and shook her head. “Hard to say whether she’s actually moved or the baby is making her overly emotional.”

__

Dany gave her a pat on the arm. “Both,” she said with confidence and began laying out pins for Margaery's hair.

__

“As for something old, I’ll give that to you when we’ve had a chance to be alone,” Olenna said with a smile. Dany directed Margaery to sit at the vanity and loosened the scarf that had been holding back her hair while she wiped away her tears.

__

“Sansa, what have you heard about Dany?” she asked as Dany began sliding pins into her hair, using her fingers to hold curls she'd twisted into place.

__

“Consensus, even with my hard to please sister, is she’s the best thing that ever happened to Jon. And not only are our two little brothers regaling me with stories of how she fought off Ramsay in front of her class, but she brings books to Bran and reads with him. She sings songs to Rickon before bed and when he gets too scared she lets him sleep with her.” She smiled. “Arya mentioned that she’s a fighter and won’t back down even though it might be easier to do so. But my favorite came from Bronn, Robb, and Gendry...she makes Jon smile.” Everyone grew quiet as Dany continued to put pins in Margaery’s hair, acting as if the conversation wasn’t about her, but Margaery didn't miss the soft smile and blush she was wearing on her pretty face.

__

“Jon’s always been a brooder, for good reason,” Sansa amended at Arya’s huff. “But they said sometimes he’ll be lost in thought and just ‘smilin’ like an idiot’. Bronn’s words, not mine. My whole family seems to love you.”

__

Margaery reached a hand up and put it over Dany’s who stopped and looked at Sansa. “I love your family. Even the hard to please Arya,” she said winking at her. “But as for Jon, he’s the best thing to ever happen to me and I wouldn’t trade meeting him for anything in the world.”

__

“The four of you are lucky women,” Olenna declared. “It wasn’t until my second marriage that I married someone I loved. But it was always a tricky thing as I was aware it was safer for me to find a man who loved me more than I loved him,” she said. “Two other women in this room know what it’s like to marry the wrong man.”

__

Dany went back to doing Margaery’s hair. “A problem that will be rectified soon.”

__

Arya rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ve had enough of all the girly stuff. I’m gonna go find my brothers and make sure Rickon ain’t dirty already.”

__

They all waved her off with wry smirks.

__

Margaery’s leg was shaking and Sansa leaned forward, resting a hand on top of it. “Relax,” she said with a smile.

__

“This has just been so long in the making that I feel like it’s too good to be true. Like something will happen to ruin my happiness,” she fretted.

__

Dany popped her lightly on the shoulder with her comb. “With the luck this family has had lately, they don’t need you bringing that down on them. Nothing but happy thoughts today.”

__

Margaery knew the truth in her words and turned to Sansa. “How are you? It’s odd being here sometimes and expecting to hear your voice and you’re not here.”

__

Sansa gave her a sad smile. “I’m good. Dickon is wonderful,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “How is Arya? She won’t really tell me things when she writes.”

__

Margaery’s eyes widened. “She writes to you?”

__

Sansa nodded. “It’s how I knew about the raid, Dany, the problems with Ramsay. Arya has been keeping me informed on all of that. But she never talks about herself.”

__

Margaery sighed. “Hard to say, actually. She didn’t like me before, she’s not exactly singing my praises, now.”

__

Sansa frowned and shook her head. “Her and Gendry are alright?”

__

“That is one area that we can answer,” Dany chuckled, “She’s mush.”

__

Margaery laughed and nodded. “Exactly. Hard and cold to almost everyone, but total _mush_ when it comes to him.”

__

Sansa smiled at that. “I’m glad. How are you feeling? Arya told me yesterday that you’re expecting.”

__

Margaery heaved a sigh. “I’m tired all the time, throwing up most of the morning and afternoon, my body is aching in ways I didn’t know were possible.” She paused as she pressed her hand to her belly and smiled brightly. “But I’m absolutely wonderful.”

__

Dany smiled at her in the mirror. “Robb would agree with that sentiment.”

__

“I certainly hope so,” Olenna chimed in. “I hope he realizes the precious jewel he’s getting.”

__

Margaery looked down at the ring he had put on her finger, still smiling, her heart full of warmth and love. “He does.”

__

*~*

__

Dany had fastened her veil in place, then helped her into her dress, pulling tight at the stays along the back, but giving her enough room to breathe and sit. Arya had returned and was sitting on the bed, twisting the wedding band on her finger.

__

“You alright,” Margaery asked her as Dany tucked the strings of her corset down into the back of her dress.

__

Arya looked up at her and nodded. “Course. Why you askin’?”

__

“You look a million miles away,” Dany answered for her.

__

Arya waved them off. “All this weddin’ stuff. I liked our small ceremony at the courthouse.”

__

Sansa rolled her eyes. “It was the hours of grovelin’ you had to do after that was the problem?”

__

Arya cut her eyes at her sister but nodded anyway. “Yeah. But, we been married for five years. Did you ever think, when we were growin’ up, that I woulda been the first one married?”

__

Sansa shook her head, laughing. “No! Up until Gendry came along, I’d never even seen you look at a man. Then you started cookin’, and brushin’ your hair, and makin’ sure you were clean.”

__

Arya smiled. “He made me nervous in the best way.” All the women in the room chuckled at that. “Oh, Margaery, Gendry wanted me to tell ya we got ya a gift.”

__

Dany fanned out the back of her dress as Margaery glanced at the younger girl in the mirror. “You did?”

__

She nodded, a cheeky smile on her face. “Rickon, Bran, and Bronn are all stayin’ at our house tonight, and Jon is goin’ into town with Dany.”

__

She chuckled. “The whole house to ourselves for the night? That is a _beautiful_ gift.”

__

Olenna tapped her fingers on her cane. “For the boys as much as for you, I’m sure.”

__

“Grandmother, behave,” she scolded her. Olenna just smiled.

__

Dany fluffed her hair a bit more then nodded. “Alright, show them.”

__

Margaery turned, running her hands over the satin, watching them all expectly. Sansa covered her mouth with her hand and even Arya smiled.

__

“Gorgeous,” her grandmother said, tears welling in her eyes.

__

They heard the screen door open and slam shut, then the hurried stomps of little feet. “Miss Margaery!” Rickon called. He was in the doorway a moment later, his big blue eyes wide, a bright smile on his face. His little cap was sitting lopsided on his head, his shirt was half untucked in the front and his bow tie was askew, but she wouldn’t have expected anything else. “Miss Margaery you look so beautiful!”

__

All the ladies laughed and she nearly cried at his look of astonishment. She stepped forward and crouched down to tuck in his shirt and straighten his tie. “And you look very handsome and clean.”

__

He nodded. “Robb said he’d whoop me if I got dirty and I can’t touch nothin’. He wants ta know if you’re ready?”

__

“He sent you in here?” Olenna asked.

__

“Nah! None of em know I left. I came ta ask cause I’m bored and hungry!”

__

She opened her mouth to say something when the screen door opened and closed again. “Rickon?” It was Jon. He stopped in the hallway just outside the bedroom. “Rickon, we told ya to stay with us,” he admonished and Rickon lowered his head.

__

“I know, but I’m hungry and Robb said we was waitin’ on Miss Margaery.”

__

Jon gave an exasperated sigh and looked at Margaery, a bright smile crossing his face. “You look beautiful,” he said as he put a hand on Rickon’s shoulder and pulled him into the hall with him. Margaery gave him a smile, but his eyes had wandered further into the room. No doubt he'd spotted Dany in her beautiful blue drop waist dress. “I ain’t got words,” he whispered.

__

Margaery took a deep breath and looked in the mirror one more time. “Jon, tell them I’m ready.”

__

“I’ll go tell em!” Rickon announced and tried to run off, but Jon snatched him by the suspenders and halted his progress.

__

“We’ll tell em together.” Dany had joined him in the hallway. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered something in her ear that caused her to blush, then left the house, Rickon's hand held firmly in his.

__

Sansa stood. “Come on, Arya, we’ll go, too.”

__

“I’ll get your bouquet,” Dany announced, giving Olenna and Margaery a moment alone.

__

Her grandmother was still sitting on the edge of the bed. “It warms my heart to see you so happy,” she said, standing and holding her hand out to her. “I’m sorry I pressured you to marry Joffrey. It was...well, at the time, it was done with good intentions. But seeing you now, how happy you are, how seamlessly you fit into this family, and how they all love you, I can admit I was wrong.”

__

Margaery swallowed the lump in her throat. “Grandmother—“

__

She held up a hand. “I’ll probably never care for Robb. But I can see he loves you, would do anything for you, and wants nothing more than to make you happy. So, in that matter, my opinion doesn’t mean anything.” She took a deep breath and took Margaery’s hand. “You’re truly happy?”

__

She nodded. “Truly.”

__

Olenna smiled at her and cupped her face. “You have been one of the brightest spots in my life. I’ve given your something old to Robb.”

__

“What is it?” she asked, barely holding herself together.

__

“My mother’s wedding band.”

__

She bit her lip. “Grandmother, I know how much that meant to you.”

__

“Good. Do you know how much you mean to me?”

__

Margaery stepped forward and hugged her. “I know this isn’t what you imagined for me, but this is what I want. What I’ve wanted since I was a little girl. It’s always been Robb for me.” She shook her head, feeling that familiar ball of guilt settle in her stomach.

__

Olenna pulled away and touched her chin. “No more of that. You’re marrying the man you love. The rest of it is over and done with.”

__

Dany appeared in the doorway, a smile on her face. “Ready?”

__

Margaery gave a tearful laugh. “Lord, yes!”

__

Olenna smiled and led the way out the back door. She could hear the soft violin playing and felt her heart racing. This was it. It was finally going to happen. She was going to marry the man she loved, the one who stole her heart the second she saw him as a child. Dany smiled at Mace as he greeted them at the top of the hill. “Miss Storm, you look lovely. And Margaery...there aren’t words.”

__

She kissed him on the cheek. The music changed and Dany gave her a hug. “That’s my cue. Deep breath,” she told her before she turned and walked down the newly built stairs.

__

Margaery closed her eyes, taking in the moment.

__

“Are you happy, my dear?”

__

She smiled at her father. “If I was any happier I’d fly away,” she laughed.

__

She linked her arm through his as he escorted her down the stairs. Her eyes fell on Robb and she nearly started sobbing. As they walked down the aisle, her heart was in her throat, the relief that they were here, this was happening, and she knew it was right and perfect and truly meant to be.

__

His smile was spread across his handsome face, his eyes never leaving her for a second. When she stood in front of him, she was barely aware of Judge Aemon asking who gave her away. Her father put her hand in Robb’s and she closed the distance between them. The dark grey suit, complete with vest and blue tie that matched the ribbon Dany had tied around her bouquet, made him appear taller and even more handsome, which she didn’t think was possible. She couldn’t hear anything but the racing beat of her heart as she stared into the blue eyes of the man who loved her. She would never be able to make it up to him, how she hurt him, but she would spend the rest of her life trying.  

__

“Robb, take her hands and repeat after me.” She handed her bouquet to Dany and she put her other hand in his. There was a slight squeeze to her fingers and just the corners of his mouth turned up. Her face hurt from smiling so wide. _“I, Robert Benjen Stark, take you Margaery Elizabeth Tyrell.”_

__

“I, Robert Benjen Stark, take you, Margaery Elizabeth Tyrell,” Robb repeated, soft and gentle.

__

_“To have and to hold from this day forward.”_

__

“To have and to hold from this day forward.”

__

_“For better for worse, for richer for poorer.”_

__

“For better for worse, for richer for poorer.”

__

_“In sickness and in health.”_

__

“In sickness and in health.”

__

_“To Love and to cherish, till death us do part.”_

__

“To Love and to cherish, till death us do part.”

__

Judge Aemon turned to Margaery, a smile on his face. “Margaery please repeat after me. _I, Margaery Elizabeth Tyrell, take you, Robert Benjen Stark.”_

__

“I, Margaery Elizabeth Tyrell, take you, Robert Benjen Stark.”

__

_“To have and to hold from this day forward.”_

__

“To have and to hold from this day forward.”

__

_“For better for worse, for richer for poorer.”_

__

“For better for worse, for richer for poorer.”

__

_“In sickness and in health.”_

__

“In sickness and in health.”

__

_“To Love and to cherish, till death us do part.”_

__

“To Love and to cherish, till death us do part.”

__

Death was the only thing that would ever take her away from him. She’d lived without him for an excruciating time and vowed to never do so again. Robb was her world, the love of her life, her soulmate. She would love and cherish him the way he deserved.

__

Judge Aemon nodded. “The rings.” Robb turned to Jon and she turned to Dany to get the ring. “Robert, place the ring on Margaery’s finger and repeat after me.” She felt the ring being slid into her finger as she stared into Robb’s bright blue eyes. _“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness.”_

__

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness.”

__

_“As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and soul to you.”_

__

“As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and soul to you.” As he settled it into place, he brushed over the band, giving her hand a quick squeeze and he smiled widely at her.

__

The sight of it caused her heart to soar into the heavens. He was hers. This was really happening. She was getting the one thing she had always wanted with the man she always wanted it with. She fought against the bubble of emotion that threatened to spill over.

__

_“I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder of the vows we have spoken today, our wedding day.”_

__

“I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder of the vows we have spoken today, our wedding day.”

__

Margaery stopped fighting the tears and allowed them to slip freely down her face. She was glad she hadn’t worn the thick eyeliner she used to wear. Going with soft and simple.

__

“Margaery,” Judge Aemon said, and she could hear the happiness in his voice, “please repeat after me. _I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness.”_

__

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness.”

__

_“As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and soul to you.”_

__

“As I place it on your finger, I commit my heart and soul to you.”

__

_“I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder of the vows we have spoken today, our wedding day.”_

__

“I ask you to wear this ring as a reminder of the vows we have spoken today, our wedding day.”

__

Judge Aemon grinned. “Then, by the power vested in me by the state of Tennessee, I now pronounce you man and wife. Robert, please kiss your bride.”

__

Robb cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around him, never wanting to let go. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet before he broke away from her, he gently bit her bottom lip which caused her to smile.

__

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Robert Stark,” Judge Aemon declared. They turned and faced their families, Dany handing her bouquet back to Margaery before they started up the aisle greeted by smiling faces and clapping.

__

They had done it. They were finally married. She pushed away the nagging thought that had haunted her for so long. _Finally_.

__

*~*

__

Robb pulled her into another embrace, bringing their lips back together. “You are so beautiful, my wife,” he whispered against her lips as they swayed slowly back and forth. Dany had been kind enough to loan her new record player to them for the occasion and Loras had provided the records, careful to make sure each song was perfect. Their family and friends were going above and beyond to make this the most perfect day.

__

“Say it again,” she whispered. “Call me your wife, again.”

__

“My wife,” he said with a smile. “My love.” His thumb came up and brushed away her tears.

__

“My husband,” she returned as she wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing him in. She rested her cheek on his shoulder as he held her hand against his heart.

__

_I’ll be loving you always_  
_With a love that’s true always_  
_When the things you’ve planned_  
_Need a helping hand,  
_ _I will understand always._

__

She pressed her forehead against his as they swayed together, soaking in his love and the feel of his hand at the small of her back and the other holding her hand gently in his. “Let’s stay this happy forever,” she whispered.

__

He placed a kiss on her lips. “Always.”

__

She looked up at him with a smile. “You’re trying to make me cry.”

__

He shook his head, an easy smile lighting his face. “Not at all, darlin’.”

__

She stroked her fingers through the hair at his nape. Her heart was so full it was near to bursting. As she looked around the room full of her family and his, she felt peace. Her eyes landed on Arya and Gendry, he had her pulled close and she was laughing as he was whispering something in her ear. “Hmm,” she hummed and looked at Robb. “Did Arya tell you about the gift she’s giving us?”

__

He furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No. Should I be worried?”

__

She giggled and scratched through his hair with her nails. “No. It’s actually very sweet. Bran, Rickon, and Bronn are staying with them tonight. And Jon has graciously decided to stay in town with Dany...”

__

He grinned, lines crinkled around his eyes. “Are you tellin’ me, my beautiful wife, that we’ll have the house all to ourselves?”

__

She nodded. “I am.”

__

He pressed a kiss on her nose. “How long do we have to stay at this little party?”

__

She laughed. “We haven’t eaten yet.”

__

“Ten minutes?”

__

She playfully hit him on the shoulder. “Robb Stark, don’t rush us through dinner. We have all night to be with one another.”

__

He shook his head. “No, darlin’, we have forever and it’s simply not long enough.”

__

She rested her head against his shoulder, her lips pressed to his neck. “Sweet talking me isn’t going to get me to leave any sooner.”

__

He laughed and squeezed her tighter around the waist. “Worth a shot.”

__

*~*

__

She kissed her father on the cheek as he hugged her, once again telling her how beautiful she was and how happy he was for her. Her grandmother was last, waiting for the men to get in the car before enveloping her in a hug. “You make that boy treat you well.”

__

“He always does,” she said with a smile.

__

Olenna pulled back, smiling as well. “I suppose if he didn’t you wouldn’t be pregnant.”

__

Her eyes widened with shock. “Grandmother!” she scolded with a laugh. “You’ve had too much moonshine and not enough food.”

__

“Nonsense. I’ve had plenty of both,” she declared as she climbed into the car. “Have a wonderful evening, my dear.”

__

She stood at the steps of the front porch and watched her family leave the mountain. Sansa and Dickon had left only a few minutes before, with Sansa offering a place for Bran and Rickon if the need arose. Dickon had happily agreed, telling Margaery whatever they needed from them they had. After all, they were all family, now.

__

Rickon ran from Arya’s porch across the yards and bounded up the steps, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Arya says I hafta stay with them and Jon and Miss Storm are goin’ to her house,” he pouted.

__

She crouched down to him and swiped at the remnants of chocolate around his lips. “Bran and Mr. Bronn are staying there, too.”

__

“But I don’t wanna stay there. I wanna sleep here,” he sulked, playing with the beads on her dress.

__

She took him by the hand and sat in the rocking chair, pulling him into her arms. “You’ll be back in your bed tomorrow night,” she said, pressing her lips against his curls, his little cap lost long ago. She’d seen Bronn and Gendry take Bran inside already and Robb was helping Jon and Dany get the barn sorted before they all turned in. “You can last one night. Besides, Shaggydog will be with you.”

__

“Can’t you make Arya let me stay here?”

__

Margaery smiled against his curls. “No. Your sister scares me,” she whispered, teasing him even though it was mostly true. She held him tight, feeling him relax against her.

__

“But who’s gonna sing me ta sleep?” he asked with a yawn.

__

“You aren’t already tired?”

__

“No,” he grumped as he rubbed his eyes.

__

She held back a chuckle as he held her hand. “What if I sing to you right now?”

__

He nodded. “Alright.”

__

_Roses love sunshine, violets love dew_  
_Angels in heaven know I love you  
_ _now I love you, dear, know I love you  
_ _Angels in heaven, know I love you._

__

She felt him go limp in her arms, but she made no move to wake him. She sat and rocked, allowing the sweet moment between them. Lately, he'd been clinging to Jon and Dany, and though she loved to see Dany growing close to the family, she felt a small pang every time he requested things from her. For so long, she’d never had to share Rickon’s affections. However, given everything that had happened recently, she was glad he had so many people who loved him and would protect him. Dany’s attachment to him had been a Godsend, especially when he was at school.

__

The screen door slammed over at Arya's drawing her attention. Gendry was standing on the porch looking around. She waved at him and he seemed to visibly sag in relief as he walked over to her. “Have to admit, I panicked when I couldn’t find em,” he said as he walked up.

__

The truck rumbled to life by the barn and Jon pulled it into the yard, Robb sitting on the tailgate. He slowed to a stop to let her _husband_ off, then he and Dany waved as he drove them down the mountain. Robb stepped up to the porch and gave her a smile. “I thought he was stayin’ with you,” he said as he looked over at Gendry.

__

“He is. Rascal snuck away while we were gettin’ Bran settled,” he responded. She placed one more kiss on his head and Gendry picked him up into his arms. He nodded at Margaery and winked at Robb. “Have fun.”

__

Gendry crossed the dirt path to his home and she looked up at Robb who was staring at her with a smile on his face. “How did you end up with him?”

__

She took his outstretched hand and stood. “He came running at me, angry he had to stay with them and that Jon and Dany were going to her place. I would plan on having an early morning visitor.”

__

He brought her hand to his lips. “Then let’s enjoy the empty house while we can,” he whispered and pulled her closer, his lips pressing against hers. He reached for the screen door and she stepped forward only for Robb to sweep her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stepped into the house then closed the door behind them. She tugged him into a kiss and he momentarily stopped walking until he pulled away. “I’m gettin’ you into that bedroom,” he growled against her lips. He made several quick strides to the door and crossed the threshold.

__

She pulled him into a needy kiss again as he placed her on her feet. She kicked off her shoes and worked on the tie at his neck while he tended to the ribbons and buttons at her back. She managed to get his shirt half open before he growled in frustration and turned her in his arms. She caught herself on the vanity as his fingers worked the knots. She took a deep breath when he loosened the corset then turned in his arms and brought his lips back to hers.

__

His greedy hands pushed the dress off her body, slipping beneath the soft fabric to trace over her skin as it slowly sunk to the floor. He lifted her up, gripping her thighs and carried her to the bed and laid down on top of her. She pushed his shirt over his shoulders, fighting to get him undressed as he dragged his lips over her neck. The feel of his calloused fingers dragging over her skin, stopping at the lace of her garter belt sent shivers through her. He sat back and quickly rid her of all her clothes at once. She could see the impatient glint in his eye. She squirmed beneath him, just as eager.

__

His hands gently trailed over her thighs as he gave her a cheeky smile, then leaned forward and licked at her folds, the tip of his tongue slipping through to tease her clit. She grasped the sheets, her back arching at the pleasure. He teased and tortured, easing and building the ache within her all at once, but the longer she laid there, a most unwelcome sensation grew. Nausea. She pushed on his shoulder and he sat back as she sat up.

__

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry etched in his brow.

__

She took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes. “Felt nauseated.” He stood from the bed and pulled the quilt around her as he reached for her canister of saltines and handed her one. She accepted it gratefully and nibbled on it, hoping it would calm her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, staring down at the cracker in her fingers.

__

His hand beneath her chin made her look up at him. She frowned to see such concern in his eyes. “Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I want ya to feel better,” he said, leaning over and kissing her forehead. She couldn’t help the tears that slid down her face and he sighed. “Now, I made ya cry.”

__

She smiled and shook her head, “No! It’s not you. It’s...all these damn emotions and...relief. True relief, Robb.”

__

He touched her cracker. “Eat that ‘fore we do anymore talkin’.” He stood and left the room. She was almost afraid she’d offended him but he reappeared a few moments later with a glass of water, placing it beside her on the nightstand. She finished the cracker, then took a sip to wash it down, closing her eyes and taking a few more steady breaths. She put the glass on the nightstand and took his hand.

__

“Relief from what?” he asked.

__

She looked up at him and realized she would have to give voice to what she’d kept hidden. Not very hidden, but enough that it had caused her worry. “Relief that you married me, that this is done. I’m where I’m supposed to be, with the man who loves me.” She shook her head. “A part of me feared you would decide that I’d hurt you too badly and you couldn’t do it...”

__

She was pulled into his arms then and her lips were crushed with his. She clung to him hard, holding him against her. He broke away, his brow wrinkled in concern. “Margaery, we been through this. You’re the one I’ve wanted since I could remember wantin’ anything. You’re the love of my life.”

__

“But I hurt you.”

__

“Aye, ya did. But we done hashed all that out. Do you think I woulda asked you to marry me, that we would be here, tonight, if I was still mad about it?” He shook his head. “You’re the woman I love. Only one I ever have. When the world looked so bleak durin’ the war, it was your face I thought of, that pushed me on. I always knew I was fightin’ ta get back to ya.” He arranged her legs to straddle his lap then smoothed his hands over her hips to her waist. “This, being with you as my _wife_ was worth all a’ it, Margaery. I’m yours. You’re mine. Until the end of my days.”

__

A bubble of happiness burst forth. She fisted her hands in his hair and crushed her mouth to his. Her hands traveled over the taut skin of his shoulders and chest sliding between them as she ground her hips against his. His fingers dug into her hips meeting her thrusts. She moaned into his mouth and broke the kiss when she remembered they didn’t have to be quiet. “Take off your pants,” she ordered. She felt his fingers press into her skin for a moment then helped her to stand then he was standing as well. She placed kisses across his chest as he shoved his pants to his ankles followed by his shorts. He kicked them both across the room then backed her up until her bottom bumped into her vanity. He sat her upon it and trailed his lips from hers down her throat and gently across her breasts.

__

He sank to the floor in front of her. “Now, I’ll have you scream my name, _wife_.”

__

She smirked and ran her fingers through his curls. “Depends how thorough you are, _husband_.”

__

He narrowed his eyes at her and she felt a thrill run through her knowing he’d just accepted her challenge. His rough hands smoothed over her thighs, picking one up and draping it over his shoulder. He propped the other on her vanity chair. She moved closer to the edge and leaned back on her hands. His beard scratched gently against the inside of her thigh as he placed kisses there, occasionally nipping her skin with his teeth. She was nearly ready to call him a tease when his hot mouth descended on her wet and aching folds. His tongue lapped at her entrance, keeping away from the little nub, building her up until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

__

When his tongue flicked against her, she nearly came off the vanity. His steady hands held her in place as she went back down, one hand holding his head in place, her fingers carding through his hair, and the other holding onto the vanity. She moaned in frustration as he sucked on her folds instead of giving her what she wanted. “Robb,” she whined, “don’t tease.”

__

“I like teasin’.”

__

She gripped his hair in her fingers as he licked her folds, causing her to squirm beneath him. She was ready to scream when his tongue flicked over her clit and nearly upended herself off the vanity. It felt like lightning stroking through her body as he sucked the little nub into his mouth and slid two fingers inside her. He was building it, pushing her harder, faster, and closer with every stroke of his fingers and flick of his tongue. He growled against her and that was it. She tumbled into her climax, shaking and screaming his name, and still, he didn't stop. She tugged on his hair, pushing him away, and he dropped kisses along her thigh before he stood, picked her up and walked them back to the bed.

__

As soon as set her down, she pushed him to his back and straddled his waist. She stroked over his hard cock and slid it between her folds, seating him fully inside of her, sighing in relief, her emptiness now filled. He threw his head back on the bed his low groan urging her on. She brought his hands to her hips and braced herself on his chest as she began sliding over his length in long, slow strokes, squeezing and pulling. His hands moved over her torso and then up to her shoulders where he brought her down so he could kiss her.

__

She gasped, his lips and tongue branding her neck, fingers light as feathers as they mapped her skin, all while her hips ground against his. It gave her just the friction she wanted. Her body took over, moving quicker, harder against him. A harsh gasp left him, then another and another. Then his fingers were sliding down her chest and stomach, and further still until his thumb was pressed against her clit, rubbing in time with her thrusts. She broke apart in his arms, crying out his name as she slammed her hips against his in vicious snaps. At the third, he shouted her name and held her hips tightly against his. A grunt and several driving thrusts and she felt his seed spill into her. She brought her lips to his and he met her in a heated kiss, both of them gasping for much-needed air.

__

She didn’t move off of him, at first, instead, she continued kissing him, his cock still inside her as his hands stroked over her body. She teased her fingers over his jaw, feeling sleepy and content.

__

Time passed, how much she didn't know, but he let out a satisfied sigh and pressed a kiss to her hair. “You still awake?”

__

She nodded and hummed. “Yes. I need to get up but I can’t seem to move.”

__

“I’d offer to help but I’m a greedy man and I got ya naked in my arms.”

__

“A predicament, for sure.”

__

“It is. Do I do the gentlemanly thing and help ya up, or do I selfishly hold ya here as long as possible?”

__

She pressed a kiss on his neck. “Hmm, not sure I’m the right person to ask.”

__

He chuckled. “Ain’t no one else here, darlin’.”

__

She lifted her head and grinned at him. “Oh, that’s right. So, if I said I wanted a bath and wanted one with you...”

__

“Well, as your husband I’d be damn _obligated_ to give ya what ya wanted.”

__

Margaery laughed as she pushed herself up and off of him. “Come along, _husband_ , I want you to wash me.”

__

“My duties as your husband get better and better,” he joked.

__

*~*

__

Robb stood at the open refrigerator examining their leftover food. She came up behind him, wearing his shirt, and wrapped her arms around his middle. “What are you doing?” she asked softly.

__

“Hungry. What about you?”

__

“I could eat.”

__

He turned around in her arms, a bright smile on his face. “That’s a very good look for you, darlin’.”

__

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Makeup smeared and my hair falling down?”

__

He chuckled. “I was thinkin’ naked ‘cept for my shirt.”

__

She grinned and snapped the waist of his shorts. “Such a charmer, my husband.”

__

He pressed his lips to hers and backed her up to the table. She gasped as he turned her in his arms, her back to his chest. He helped her remove the shirt and she was very glad she hadn’t put on her drawers. She braced her hands on the table as he trailed kisses along her spine, letting out a gasp at the feel of his fingers sliding along her folds. Then he placed kisses on her bottom, even gently biting one of her cheeks. “Robb,” she groaned, “we’re not really going to do this...oh Lord...on the table are we?”

__

His answer was to slide his fingers inside her, slowly teasing her. “The table is where you eat,” he said as he removed his fingers, leaned forward, and buried his tongue in her cunt. She moaned his name and reached back to grab his hair. His hands were moving over the back of her thighs and up to her bottom. She was thrusting back against his tongue when he suddenly pulled away from her. She groaned, even banging a fist on the table. She'd been so close. But as quickly as she had grown angry, she had moaned happily to feel his cock pressing against her. She dropped her head as he slid inside, splitting her open and began thrusting. Still tender from being well used only an hour before, she was swollen, raw, and weeping. Each stroke he gave was a pleasing ache, delicious torment.

__

She gripped the edge of the table, hearing it scratch against the floor with his thrusts. She bit her lip, savoring every one, every grunt from him, and the quickness in which she was skating toward her climax. He hauled her back to his chest and she moaned his name as she tumbled over the edge. She caught herself on the table as he released her, gripped her hips tight, driving into her harder and faster. Her body was still shaking with the aftermath of her release when she felt his cock pulse inside her, groaning as he tumbled after her. He pressed his forehead to her back as his hands slid over her body, whispering words of adoration.

__

It was several moments before either of them moved. He pulled away from her and she turned to see him pull up his shorts then reached for her shirt and helped her put it back on. He smiled at her and brought her to him in a kiss. She held him close for a moment. “I was supposed ta feed ya, wasn’t I?”

__

She smiled and nodded. “Don’t think I’ll be able to sit at the table and eat it, though.”

__

He chuckled and cupped her bottom in his hands as he leaned forward to kiss her. “Wanna eat in bed?”

__

She nodded. “As long as it’s not anything with a lot of crumbs or sticky.”

__

He nodded. “Go on back to bed.”

__

She smiled, gave him another kiss and sauntered away from him, feeling his eyes watching her every move.

__

*~*

__

The sound of birds chirping outside woke her. She didn’t move at all except to reach for one of the saltines from the tin. She ate it slowly, watching dust dance in the streams of yellow sunlight filtering into the room. Robb was practically wrapped around her, one hand holding her breast, the other tucked beneath her pillow. His soft breathing ruffled her hair and she smiled as she removed his hand from her breast and held it in her own, her fingers twisting the band around his finger.

__

He hummed behind her and scooted closer, his lips now pressed to her shoulder. “Feelin’ alright?”

__

She nodded. “Only a little sick,” she answered. “Dany was right about the saltines. They aren’t always successful but most days they work.”

__

“Good.”

__

She sat up and stretched, feeling a delicious ache in her muscles. They had put their alone time to good use, even if she was sure she’d never be able to look at the kitchen table again without blushing. She’d have to try to get over that.

__

“What time is it?” she wondered, “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing Rickon soon.”

__

Robb reached over her to the nightstand, making sure to drop kisses on her lips as he reached blindly for his pocket watch. She laughed as his lips tickled down her throat. He pulled back, a bright smile on his face as he opened the watch. Then he frowned.

__

“What?”

__

“It’s nearly noon,” he said shocked.

__

“Oh, my poor boy,” she said as she sat up, but was pulled back down onto the bed. “Robb, he’s probably really upset...”

__

“I’ll be really upset if you go get him,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Sides...we both know he could sneak away from them,” he huffed as he put a kiss on her nose. “You stay here, I’ll put the kettle on to make you some tea, and I’ll see if Rickon is hidin’ outside the house waitin’ for us.”

__

She sighed. “At least let me put some clothes on in case he is,” she half demanded, but the thought of Robb coming back to ravish her again held a lot of appeal.

__

“Just...not a lot of clothes,” he insisted as he kissed her and climbed from the bed. She eyed his ass as he grabbed a pair of trousers and slid them on along with his suspenders. She sat up and reached for his shirt as he left the room, then pulled on a pair of soft, pink drawers and settled against the headboard. Robb laughed from the other room.

__

“What?” she called. She heard the water running for the kettle and Robb’s footfalls back to the bedroom. When he appeared in the doorway, he was holding a picnic basket and a letter. She smiled as she took the letter from him.

__

_Good morning newlyweds,_

__

_Inside this basket, you will find biscuits, jam, and bacon, as well as extra peppermint for tea. Jon and I have taken Rickon fishing and Arya and Gendry are spending the day with Bran. God only knows what Bronn is doing. Enjoy the quiet while you have it. We’ll be back at six and I’m certain Rickon will break down the door to get inside._

__

_Dany_

__

_P.S. You will owe us in the future._

__

Margaery chuckled as she opened the basket and found a bowl with fluffy biscuits, a jar of jam, and bacon wrapped in a towel.

__

Robb left the room again as the kettle whistled and she crawled from beneath the covers to quickly make the bed and sat atop the quilt as Robb came in with a tray that held her cup of tea, a knife, a napkin, and a glass of water. He settled it between them and she put jam on one of the biscuits and handed it to him as he leaned back against the headboard.

__

“I could get used ta this,” he said, smiling.

__

“Which part?” she questioned.

__

“The part where it’s just you an’ me and we ain’t got nothin’ ta do but eat and fuck,” he chuckled.

__

She laughed as well and took a bite of her biscuit. She held out a piece of bacon to him and he took a bite and released her hand. Margaery looked at the note again and grinned. “We’ll definitely owe them. Do you think that means they’ll get married?”

__

Robb nodded. “I know Jon wants that. What about her? She said anythin’ to ya bout it?”

__

“Not in so many words. But you’ve seen how they look at one another. How they are. I have no doubt she wants the same.”

__

“Good. Jon deserves it.”

__

Margaery nodded and leaned back against his chest. “So, does she.” She smiled up at him. “I am going to clean that kitchen before they get back.”

__

Robb laughed, again. “No matter how hard ya scrub, darlin’, you won’t be able to erase what we did on that table.”

__

She gave him a slight smile. “I just need to be able to look at it without blushing.”

__

Robb fed her bacon this time. “Might be the one and only time it ever happens. Tempted to do it again for good measure.”

__

She shook her head. “You’re a naughty man, Robb Stark.”

__

“And you love me.”

__

“Yes, I do.”

__

*~*

__

Robb had just finished with supper, insisting on doing it since she cooked for them all the time. It was his turn. They both smiled when the screen door flew open and Rickon ran inside. He ran straight for Margaery and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m back!” he announced.

__

Robb set the food on the table. “Really? I didn’t hear you stompin’ through the house like a great beast!”

__

Margaery swatted at him but held Rickon to her and kissed his curls. “Have you been fishing all this time?”

__

Jon and Dany came in a few seconds later, hand in hand. Rickon nodded. “I caught a bunch a fish.”

__

“How did Jon do?” Robb asked.

__

“Ah, he didn’t fish long. He sat and watched me and Miss Dany.”

__

Margaery snuggled into him and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “I missed you, little man. Go wash up so you can eat.”

__

He jumped down and ran toward the bathroom. Margaery smiled up at Jon and Dany. “Thanks for giving us the day.”

__

“You earned it,” Jon said with a smile. “Makin’ my brother as happy as you do...”

__

Dany pressed a kiss to his cheek. “He’s such a romantic,” she teased and of course Jon blushed.

__

“Aww, Jon, ya just got the biggest heart,” Robb mocked, his hand covering his chest.

__

Margaery flicked her hand and hit him in the stomach. “Don’t tease your brother.”

__

He rolled his eyes. “That’s why I have brothers.”

__

The sound of people talking and then their feet on the steps filled the house. Bran was pushed into the house by Bronn. “Somethin’ smells good,” the older man called and Arya and Gendry followed in behind them.

__

“You all stayin? I made enough,” Robb offered.

__

Arya shook her head. “No. Gendry’s makin’ us supper. We just wanted to bring their stuff back,” she said as she handed Robb Rickon’s little bag and Bran’s medicine. “We’ll leave ya to it,” she said as she turned to the door and even Gendry watched her in confusion as she left. When he didn’t immediately follow, she poked her head back in, “Gendry. _Empty_ house.”

__

At that, he blushed as he looked around the room then smiled. “With that, I bid you good evenin’.” He followed her and her laughter could be heard through the open kitchen window.

__

Margaery looked at the others in the room. All of her brothers looked disgusted, while Dany and Bronn looked amused. “That girl is as wild as the west.” He turned to the others. “Supper?”

__

“I’m all clean!” Rickon yelled at his return and climbed back onto Margaery’s lap. She happily snuggled him.

__

“Jon and I will be back. He wanted to show me something,” Dany announced.

__

“Three guesses what,” Bronn joked.

__

Margaery and Robb both laughed as Rickon looked up at them. “I bet it’s in the barn.”

__

Jon quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why you guessin’ that?”

__

“That’s where all the best stuff is!” Rickon said as if he were stupid.

__

Margaery made Rickon a plate. “Here, little man, why don’t you have some potatoes.”

__

“I love potatoes!”

__

Jon and Dany left and Bran rolled up to the table and served himself. Bronn got an extra chair from the living room and they all sat at the table and had supper, listening to Rickon talk about his adventures fishing with Jon and Dany and how he had laughed when she wouldn’t pull her fish out of the water. “What did ya’ll do?” he finally slowed down long enough to ask and Bronn looked up at them with a smile, surely wanting to see how they got out of that one.

__

Margaery didn’t know what to say and looked at Robb. He jumped in quick. “Well, we slept. Ya know how the baby makes Miss Margaery sick...”

__

He turned his head to look at her, concern on his face. “You feelin’ alright, now?”

__

She nodded and squeezed him. “Better now that you’re here.”

__

“Do I still have ta call ya _Miss_ Margaery?”

__

“What do you mean?” Robb asked.

__

“Well,” he said after he swallowed the large bite he had put into his mouth, “if you’re my brother an you married her, then that makes her my sister, don’t it? Like Gendry’s my brother cause he married Arya.”

__

Robb nodded. “I reckon it does.” His eyes met Margaery’s and she couldn’t help the tears that blurred her vision. “It’s up to her.”

__

She hugged him. “You can call me Margaery or Miss Margaery, whatever you want.”

__

He nodded and ate another bite. “I might mess up and still call you Miss Margaery.”

__

“I’ll let you,” she said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya/Gendry are next!


	21. I Can't Make It On My Own, Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry and Arya's run takes a terrible turn
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, VIOLENCE TO AN ANIMAL, TALK OF RAPE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, VIOLENCE TO AN ANIMAL, TALK OF RAPE** \- there is a summary at the end of the chapter in the end notes of what happened in this chapter. 
> 
>  
> 
> PLEASE pay attention to the warning. This was a difficult chapter to write. 
> 
> HUGE thanks to FrostBitePanda for betaing this chapter for us. She whipped it into shape and made it harder for us to read. We won't say we hope you like it, but this is really the jumping off point. Things are going to get harder from here. Pay attention to the warnings.

 

****WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, VIOLENCE TO AN ANIMAL, TALK OF RAPE** **

 

 _Many a night I have longed for you_  
_Many a day down that ole dredge_  
_Many a miles, a million miles_  
_I’ve been wanderin’_  
_Just tryin’ to bring my baby back_  
  
_My baby back, my baby back  
Oh, please, just bring my baby back_

 _Well I met you in the valley_  
_With your hair long flowing black_  
_A million miles, a million miles_  
_Well I’ve been searchin’_  
_Oh, please, Lord bring my baby back_  
  
_My baby back, my baby back_  
_Oh, please, just bring my baby back_  
  
_A many a night with you I’ve rambled_  
_Said our love would be for free_  
_Many a mile, a million miles_  
_Well I’ve been lost, love_  
_Oh, please, don't take my baby away_  
  
_My baby away, my baby away_  
_Oh, please, don't take my baby away_  
  
_I can’t make it on my own, love_  
_I loved you, and that's a fact_  
_Now I'm lost on that dark road, love_  
_Tryin’ to bring my baby back_  
  
_My baby back, my baby back_  
_Oh, please, just bring my baby back_  
  
_My baby back, my baby back_  
_Oh, please, just bring my baby back_  
  
_Don't Take My Baby Away  
**The Haunted Windchimes**_

 

**GENDRY**

 

They both gave a wave to Tyrion as they pulled out of his drive. Gendry got them through town and headed west toward the Greyjoys. None of their usually tense stops were on Arya's list that night so they were relaxed and enjoying the ride, despite the light rain that was falling and the chill in the air. Nymeria was resting against the door, her nose twitching, collecting all the scents coming in through the open window. Arya had her hand on his leg, rubbing teasing strokes over his inner thigh with her fingers. He smirked over at her, thinking of the naughty things he wanted to do to her when they got home.

She scowled suddenly and he looked up just in time to see a car driving straight at them with no lights on. Heart in his throat, he jerked the wheel to the left and hit the brakes, swerving off the road and into the brush.

“What the fuck was that?” Arya snapped as she spun around and looked behind them. But Gendry’s eyes were fixed firmly on the car that had pulled to a stop across the middle of the road. ‘County Sheriff’ was painted on the door. His stomach dropped. He held his hand up in front of his face, shielding himself from the sudden glare of headlights flooding the cab of their truck.

Nymeria's deep growl and raised hackles only added to the dread crawling around his insides. The doors of the sheriff's car slowly opened.

His eyes darted to the rearview mirror. The other car was now parked behind them. They were pinned between the two, both angled to block any escape.

He gripped Arya’s hand. “Scoot over here to the driver’s seat,” he whispered, “you drive outta here when I–”

“Get out of the truck!”

Gendry’s heart stopped. He knew that voice. The order had come from Alliser’s deputy, Gregor Clegane.

“I’m not leavin’ you!” Arya hissed, grabbing onto his arm with both hands.

“Do what I say for once in our lives,” he whispered harshly, pulling against her hold. He had to get her out of here.

Her grip on him only tightened, nails biting into his skin. The panic in her eyes tore at his heart as she protested, not only his order but his efforts to pry her fingers loose from his arm. “They’ll kill you if I leave,” she told him, voice cracking and small.

He freed his arm from her grip and leaned in close, pressing a kiss just in front of her ear. “They’ll do worse to ya if ya stay,” he warned. “I love you wolf girl,” he added in a whisper before turning and quickly opening his door. He stepped out, hands up, into the rain and the ring of guns pointed at him. “I ain’t armed!”

“The girl, too!” Gregor shouted.

His wife whispered something, harsh and rushed, but the falling rain washed it away. All the air left his lungs as he heard her scramble out behind him. She stepped up beside him, Nymeria nowhere to be seen.

“Away from the truck, both of ya.”

Gendry and Arya walked into the road. She stood at his side, ever defiant, hands balled into fists, glare fierce. Raindrops beaded in her long lashes and fell down her cheeks, but she never once flinched. A tremor ran through him, whether from the cold rain soaking into his clothes or fear, he wasn't sure.

His eyes darted to the sound of the truck door closing and bile rose into his throat, acrid and blistering. Ramsay was leaning against the door with a venomous smile on his bruised and battered face with a gun in his hand. It had been well over a month since he and Jon had fought him and Locke at the social. Someone else had given him a brutal beating, and recently too. Whoever it had been, he wished they'd done a better job, beat him so bad he never would've woke up again.

“My men are gonna search your truck for shine,” Gregor announced with a grunt.

“Search them for weapons, too,” the unmistakable nasally drawl of Joffrey sounded behind them. Gendry's muscles stiffened, joints locking. Their situation was growing worse by the second.  

“I hear she’s always got a knife on her,” Joffrey sneered with his eyes locked on Arya as he walked around her and stood in front of them with Clegane, smirking all the while. The little weasel looked like a child's spindly puppet next to the giant deputy. Gendry was surprised he was willing to let his pretty suit get ruined in the rain.

“Oh, Clegane,” another nasally voice sang out, “mother load back here.” Gendry dared a peek over his shoulder and saw Locke walking around the truck to stand behind them with a predatory grin. He also had a gun and his lip was split. He'd been beaten along with Ramsay apparently–both eyes black, a bulging nose covered in tape.

Movement caught his eye and he whipped his head around to see the Mountain walking toward him, then someone slammed into his back shoving him straight in the massive hands of the deputy.

Arya’s screams rent the night. He wanted nothing more than to break free of his captor and get to her, but he was helpless, all he could do was listen to her cries and the grunts of the men holding her back.

The first blow sent a bell ringing in his ears. Then the second came, the bone beneath his eye breaking with a sickening crack. He slammed into the ground, his skull bouncing off the gravel road and exploding with pain. The world spun. His bloody tooth lay shining in the mud. A gun clicked somewhere over his head.

Arya was still screaming, her shrill cries finding their way through the incessant ringing in his ears. He forced his eyes open, desperate to stay with her. Blood and rain ran into his eyes, blurring his vision, but through the red haze, he found her. Meryn and Polliver had her, their grip on her brutish, struggling to hold her as she fought like a hellcat to free herself.

Terror gripped him, sending a jolt of fire through his veins. He got his hands under him and tried to lift himself up, needing to get to her, but a kick to the ribs stole the air from him, and he dropped again. Still, he tried to reach her, grasping handfuls of mud to pull himself closer. Blood rushed and roared through his ears, drowning out all else. He couldn’t breathe through his nose, he couldn't breathe at all.

The rain was coming down harder, and he lost her behind a sheet of glistening white, every drop of rain catching the glare of the headlights. Another punch connected with his jaw, he spit out blood and two more teeth onto the muddy ground. A hand grabbed the back of his hair and jerked his head up. A fist came at him, more pain with it.

Two kicks to his gut and he was rolled over onto his back. Locke climbed on top of him and took to using his face as a punching bag.

He couldn’t hear Arya anymore, or the men laughing, there was only pain, nothing but pain as the darkness drug him under.

**ARYA**

She was struggling to break their hold over her. If she could get to her knife she could take one, maybe two. She tried to block out the sound of bones cracking, the grunts of her husband as he was kicked, but each sound tore at her, threatening to rip her heart from her heaving chest.

Joffrey’s pinched face appeared in front of hers, his head tilted to the side. “Aren’t you the one they call the She-wolf? Everyone’s afraid of you, aren't they? You don't look so scary to me.”

She spit in his face and his sound of outrage was music to her ears. He backhanded her across the cheek then used her dress tail to wipe the spit off his face. “You’ll pay for that you little cunt!”

Ramsay put a hand on Joffrey’s shoulder and the other man stepped aside. “Have you searched her for a weapon?”

She began struggling again, Polliver and Meryn barely able to contain her. Their fingers dug into her arms, but she would earn every bruise with pride. She kicked out at Ramsay, barely missing him as he side-stepped her.

“Now, now. If you don't be still, Miss Waters,” he said, his voice carrying a gleeful edge as he walked over to where Gendry lay and squatted down beside him. Locke and The Mountain had ceased their beating, stepping back as Ramsey approached, both grinning. Ramsay looked over his shoulder at her, shaking his head and tisking. “We may have to find a fun new way to tame you.” He placed his hand on Gendry's face, his thumb just under his eye, and pressed. Her husband's scream filled the air, his body drawing up to hide from the pain. Ramsay's smile was depraved as he looked at her again. “But by all means, keep kicking, I really would love that.”

She went still.

“There’s a good little wolf,” he said, rising to his feet and walking over. “Where’s this knife, Meryn?”

“Right garter.”

Ramsay's hands slipped beneath her skirt and removed Needle. He paused, fingers lingering on her thighs, making her skin crawl. He took a fistful of her hair and yanked, bringing her head against his shoulder, her neck twinging with the strain as he twisted her hair cruelly. He held the knife out, bouncing it. “Joffrey, have a look at what I found.”

Joffrey took her blade from him and opened it. “Nifty little knife,” he mumbled, studying it a moment before looking up at her. “She’s wearing too much clothing. We should unburden her,” he said, smirking right in her face.

“What a marvelous idea!” Ramsay trilled into her ear. “To make sure she’s not hiding any more weapons.”

She went stone still, never taking her eyes from Joffrey as he cut open the front of her dress, even going so far as to cut the sleeves.

He could try all he liked, but he wouldn’t break her.

His eyes flashed and he grabbed the collar, ripping the dress off her and held it up in his hand. “I think I’ll mount this in my trophy room.”

But she wasn’t listening, the sound of Locke’s fists connecting with Gendry’s face, wet and brutal, had deafened her to all else. The world fell away–the chill of the rain soaking through her underthings, the drone of the deluge, the mocking laughter of her captors, the smell of blood and wet wool, all muted and oddly distant.

She snapped, reality rushing back in, shaking her to her very core with how helpless she really was. Out-maned, out-gunned, standing almost naked in the rain. She wouldn't break, she wouldn't. She kicked out again with a desperate scream that felt like it would rip clean through her lungs. She had to get to him. Had to get free.

Joffrey scrambled back when she nearly landed a kick to his groin. “Hold her, you idiots!” he screeched.

Ramsay's arm came around her hips and pulled her tight to his front. He was hard, she could feel the bulging length of him pressed against her lower back. Her stomach did a sickening pitch.

Joffrey stepped forward again, slipping Needle beneath the strap of her camisole. He sliced it in half and Gendry's warning filtered through the burning rage coursing in her veins, turning them to ice.

_They’ll do worse to ya if ya stay._

She steeled herself against the tide of fear and rage that warred within her, knowing an assault was coming–clenching her teeth so hard it was a wonder they didn't crack. Joffrey moved to the other strap and the camisole fell away, dropping heavy and limp to hang around her hips. Nauseating fear engulfed her as he kept going, slicing through her drawers next. He peeled both off of her wet skin and slung them into the mud. She stood naked and freezing in the rain, down to nothing but her muddy shoes and her garter.

Joffrey's face twisted with disgust as he looked her over. “She looks like a boy!” he sneered, then turned and walked to Gendry, who had been turned over on his stomach.

Arya bit her lip against a cry as Joffrey kicked him twice in the ribs. “You like fucking boys, don't you, bastard? What kind of sick fuck are you?”

“She’s still got a cunt,” Polliver grunted from her side where he was holding her arm. The nauseating stench of his breath causing her stomach to churn. “Could let the Mountain have first go.” She shuddered, straining against the hold Ramsay had of her hair.

Gregor stood and stared. His face was hidden from her view, silhouetted by the headlights. His long pause filled her with a sense of panic she had never experienced, her mind and body both working to brace her against what she feared was coming. “I don’t fuck whores while I’m on duty,” he muttered. She glanced down at the fallen form of her husband, he didn't make a sound as his body gave under the force of the other man’s boot.

“Joffrey?” Polliver questioned.

“And let a wolf whore get pregnant with a Lannister? Taint it with the stench of dog?” he responded with a snarl. His eyes cut over her shoulder. “Ramsay, you take her.”

Ramsay let her go and walked around to look her over. Her heart dropped to her feet. She'd die fighting before she let him have her. He stepped between her and Gendry so she could no longer see him.

“I’m saving myself for someone much more special than this,” he said, his voice low and menacing. _Dany._ “You know exactly who I mean, don’t you, wolf girl? I can see it in your eyes. Be sure to tell her hello for me next time you see her.” Then he smiled, turning to look over his shoulder. “Taking her will be delightful, won’t it Locke?”

The lackey joined them, gazing at her hungrily through his blackened eyes. “Better than this skinny bitch,” he said as he reached forward and roughly grabbed her face, pinching her cheeks together cruelly. “She’s not worthy of my cock and I have indiscriminate tastes.”

“Well, if no one wants her… how about we mark her another way?” Joffrey said, flipping Needle between his fingers.

Joffrey shoved Locke out of the way, holding her knife up for her inspection, letting the light glint off the edge. He traced it along her face and down her body, she didn’t know what he was going to do, but he had no time to put whatever he was planning into place.

He was interrupted by a blur of snarling grey fur. Nymeria sunk her teeth into Joffrey's arm, he dropped the knife with a scream.

Her faithful wolf had come from beneath the truck, waiting for just the right moment as she had whispered for her to do.

Joffrey screeched in pain, his bones crunching between Nymeria's powerful jaws as she flung him around like a ragdoll. Meryn released her with a yell, rushing forward and kicking at the wolf. Her grip on Joffrey was dislodged with a yelp of pain, but she lunged again, this time latching onto Meryn's leg.

Arya took advantage of the chaos and swung, punching Polliver in the face. He cried out, clutching a broken nose. She bent forward to grab Needle from the mud but took a boot to the gut sent her falling to her knees, gasping for air.

Nymeria yelped piteously again and again. Arya looked up to see Joffrey and Meryn kicking her wolf no matter how she snapped and snarled back at them. She scrambled to her feet to try to do something to save her, but a boot slammed into her back, knocking her back into the mud. She covered her head with her arms as kick after kick rained down on her. She couldn’t tell who or how many of them were on her, could only feel the hard rubber soles of her attackers.  

The world began spinning after a steel-toe connected with her temple. She could barely see Gendry, could no longer hear whimperings from Nymeria. For all she knew, they were both dead. Her body ached and bells rang in her head. But still, they stomped her into the freezing wet mud.

And then it stopped. The rain, the kicks, the cries. All of it stopped. Not even the critters in the woods made a sound.

She lay unmoving, afraid it was a trick, fearing it would all come back if she opened her eyes. But she had to, for him. Lifting her head, she peeled her eyes open. The cars were gone, the men and the guns and their boots–all gone. _How had_ _she missed them leaving? Had she been so_ _scared_... It didn't matter. She squinted, and could just barely make out the shadow of Gendry, a few feet from her, a crumpled heap and deathly still.

Her world came to a screeching halt, terror freezing her in place. _He wasn't, he wasn't. Couldn't be. Please, Lord_ , _don't take him away._ And there, in the silence that followed her prayer, she heard a shallow, wheezing breath, then another.

She slowly rose to her hands and knees with a cry and crawled to him, the mud slick beneath her, the sharp rocks cutting into her skin. Nymeria's whimpers restarted from behind her as she finally reached him. Using all the care she could with numb hands and her spinning head, she rolled him to his back to get his face out of the mud. She began trying to rid his precious face of the clinging mud, gently smoothing it away from his mouth and nose. He was going to suffocate if she didn't. But no matter how much she cleared away she couldn't find the man her eyes treasured, only a broken, battered version of him.

“Gendry, wake up,” she begged, tears rolling down her face. He didn't move, made no sound other than the horrible raspy breaths that seemed to weaken each time. “Gendry, _please_.” Still no response.

She didn't dare shake him or check his pulse, too cowardly to endure the results. She gritted her teeth, rising on shaky legs to her feet, nearly collapsing at a sudden spike of pain in her ankle. She hobbled as best she could to the truck. She fumbled with the key that had fallen to the floorboard, hands shaking as she finally got it into the ignition. The sudden rumble of the engine breaking through the silence startled her. She shifted the truck into gear, whimpering at the pressure on her ankle. She pulled on the wheel as hard as she could to angle it toward Gendry, backing up and turning, over and over again. Her head ached, but the pain in her ankle helped to focus her attention on something other than her pulse beating in her temple. It felt like hours before she could get the truck lined up with her husband, but she finally did. She got out once again, careful of her ankle, and made her way to him.

“Gendry,” she whispered, “I have ta get you outta here. I’m sorry, but it’s gonna hurt.” She slid her arms beneath his and lifted him as best she could, letting out a scream. She dragged him through the squelching mud, her shoes slipping as much as her grip on him. Each step she took was agony, her body protesting every movement until she finally got him to the open door. Sweat rolled down her neck, and her stomach churned as she realized she still had to get him into the truck. She gritted her teeth, determined not to let her body keep her from saving his life. With a groan, she grasped him beneath his arms again, locking her hands around his chest and heaved, over and over again to get him leaned against the seat. She finally succeeded, head throbbing and ankle nearly giving out as she stepped away from him.  

She ignored it all. He needed help and she'd get it for him.

She staggered around the other side of the truck, climbed in, and laid herself across the seat. Everything in her just wanted to lay there and sleep, it pulled at her, greedily, black as tar. It would be so warm, melt all the pain away. But she couldn't, not yet.

Grabbing him beneath the arms again, she pulled with all her might. It could've been minutes, maybe hours, but by some sweet mercy she got him in and seated somewhat upright.

Once he was secured inside the truck, the minute feeling of relief was overcome by nausea and dizziness. She turned and wretched in great heaving gasps, emptying out her stomach. The pounding in her head was near excruciating but she stood once more and looked at Gendry. She could endure all of it if only he lived.

She caught her breath and went to Nymeria. The wolf had crawled along her belly and stopped at the tailgate, waiting. Arya hefted her front end into her arms and helped her scramble into the bed and closed the gate. She had to stop and lean against the truck again, fighting off a wave of dizziness, her body flushed with heat and another bout of nausea. She wouldn’t get sick again. Couldn't.

Stumbling forward, she climbed into the truck, pressed the clutch, and put it into gear, cursing as her ankle shook. They lurched forward and Gendry groaned. She didn’t look at him, knew if she did she would fall apart.

The hospital was on the other side of town, but the Lannister's might be waiting for them. Home was too far. She knew she couldn’t drive that long with her aching head and Gendry needed real medical attention, not a makeshift first aid kit.

A friendly face flashed before her eyes and she sped down the road. “We’re gonna make it,” she told him softly. “You're gonna be fine.”

*~*

She laid on the horn in front of Samwell Tarly’s house, unable to do anything more. A strangled cry left her when the lights flicked on and the front door opened, relief flooding her. Sam walked out, holding a shotgun. His mouth fell open the second he saw her, eyes as big as dinner plates. She couldn’t imagine how insane she must look, naked, bloody, and covered in mud. “Arya? Lord Almighty, what hap–”

“Help him,” she gasped, gesturing toward Gendry.

Sam struggled out of his robe, still gripping his shotgun. Finally, he laid it on the hood of the truck and tossed the robe to her through the window before running around and opening the passenger door. “Oh, Lord. Is this Gendry?”

She nodded. Gilly was now at Sam's side with a stretcher. The two of them worked together to pull Gendry from the truck and into the house. Arya wrapped the robe around herself as best she could and followed, limping. They went through the front hallway and into the clinic that was attached to the back of the house. She braced her muddy hands on the walls to stay upright. They got Gendry into an examination room and on the table easily, obviously well practiced.

Gilly turned to her and helped lower her into a chair in the corner of the room then brought a blanket over, wrapping it around her. “Where’re you hurtin’?”

Arya shook her head, “Don't worry ‘bout me. Take care a’ him and Nymeria,” she mumbled to her. “She’s in the truck bed. She’s hurt, too.”

Sam stood over Gendry with a pair of scissors in his hand. “Gilly, start a saline drip, then get to Winter’s Peak and tell Jon–”

“He ain't on the mountain,” Arya cut in. “He's at the school teacher’s house. We dropped him off a couple hours ago.”

Saline drip secured, Gilly rushed from the room as Sam began cutting Gendry’s clothes from his body. Arya sat curled into a ball, the pounding in her head so intense the light coming from Sam’s examination lamp nearly made her sick again.

She was so tired, had never been so tired in her life. It was like she was sinking into a pit of black tar with no hope of escape. All she wanted to do was sleep now that she'd gotten Gendry help. She closed her eyes, her head starting to droop.

“Don’t you go to sleep, Arya Waters,” Sam’s voice startled her, “Not until I’ve had a look at ya.”

She leaned her head back against the wall and wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

“What day is it?” Sam asked.

It took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her. She didn't bother opening her eyes and hummed, not wanting to speak. It took too much effort and it hurt her head and throat.

“Arya, what day is it?” he asked again, louder that time.

“Monday, ain't it?”

“Who were your folks?”

Metal rattled against metal, ringing loud through her head. She pulled it away from the wall, wincing, the noise and movement sending her pulse pounding through her eye, threatening to burst it.

“Ned and Cat,” she groaned.

“How many siblings you got?”

“There's six a’ us, you know that,” she grumbled, tired of his picking.

But on he went, not caring how tired she was, asking her mundane questions while he rubbed away grime and blood and spilled shine over Gendry's wounds. She struggled to answer them all, her brain seemingly floating just beyond her reach, lost in a gauzy fog, as the minutes stretched on and on until she had no account of how much time had past.

A familiar voice filtered through her stupor, though she couldn’t quite place who it was or why it was she knew it. She lifted her head, the effort monumental, and watched as Jon burst into the room, Gilly and Dany right at his heels.

Gilly immediately rushed forward to help Sam, while Jon and Dany stood frozen, horror etched on their faces as they stared at Gendry, limp and bloody on the examination table. Dany smothered a sob behind her hand, tears welling in her eyes, but she caught sight of her and started shaking Jon from his stunned stupor.

His eyes locked with hers for a beat and then he was there, dropping to his knees in front of her. She didn't know if she'd ever seen him look so torn up, eyes huge and watering, darting all over as they took her in.

He was white as a sheet, hands trembling as they hovered over her, not knowing what to do. She gave him an answer, leaning into him and choking back a sob as he gently pulled her close. The weight of his arms on her back sent a bolt of pain through her, but she managed only to tremor, needing his comfort far too much to pull away.

His hand cradled the back of her head as he whispered over and over how sorry he was, his voice weaker than she'd ever heard it. She felt like she'd been sent back in time when she was little and she'd been so afraid her mama would stop loving her because one of the boys at school had told her she looked like her bastard cousin. She'd run straight to Jon and he'd soothed all her fears.

Another hand, smaller and softer, came to gently rest on her arm. She opened her eyes to find Dany crouched beside them, her pretty face lined with worry. “Jon, why don't you see if Sam and Gilly need your help?”

Jon pulled back from her and looked at Dany as if she'd lost her mind, before glancing over his shoulder to the table where Gendry lay motionless and beaten. His face had gained back some color when he turned back around, a worried brow firmly in place.

“Go,” Arya told him, her voice cracking. “Help ‘em if you can. He saved you once, save him now,” she begged.

Jon stood slowly and leaned over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Ain't never met anyone stronger than him. It's all gonna be okay.”

She knew it most certainly wouldn't, and from the fear that was settled in Jon's dark eyes, she knew he didn't believe the words either. She nodded anyway and watched as he went over to help Sam and Gilly.

Her husband had not moved since they laid him down. Hadn't made a single grunt or groan. _Please Lord, bring him back to me._

Nymeria limped into the room, whining with each step she took, drawing their attention. She made her way to Arya and laid at her feet with an exhausted sigh.

“Arya,” Dany whispered, rubbing her arm. Arya struggled to focus on her blue eyes. “Where are your clothes, Arya?” She heard the worry and the unspoken question within. _Did they rape you?_

“They took ‘em. As a trophy,” she told her, keeping her voice low.

Dany’s eyes still burned with that one, unanswered question as they roved over her with concern, but Arya could not conjure the will to begin to explain what had happened just yet. Dany seemed to understand, though. She had her own dark past,  and she squeezed Arya’s hand in fellowship. “I know some first aid. I can’t stitch you up, but I can wrap some of your scrapes and things... help clean you up.”

Arya nodded and Dany stood, pulling the examination screen in front of them.

“Can you undress for me?” she asked softly. Arya removed the blanket and opened the robe Sam had given her while Dany disappeared back around the screen and returned a moment later with a dish of water and several rags. Without a word, she took to washing the mud off, her touch gentle and careful. She even removed her shoes and washed her feet. The water was warm and Dany made sure to keep the blanket on her as much as possible but Arya trembled and shook anyway, her skin covered in gooseflesh and cold sweat. Even her teeth rattled. It made the aching so much worse. She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay.

Dany finished as quickly as she could and wrapped her up tight from head to toe. She even found another blanket to put under her feet to keep them off the cold floor. She squatted in front of her, rubbing her hands over her thighs to help warm her.

“You’ve got a few scrapes, they'll heal up quick with some ointment. The shaking will pass too. I promise. I did the same after my family… It's just the shock.” Arya nodded because it was all she could do. “I'm going to check your head now. For bumps or cuts.” Dany stood and fingered through her hair, soon finding a very tender spot. Arya tensed, grimacing against the pain. Her head was still pounding. “You’ve got a pretty deep cut back here,” Dany told her. “It's bleeding still.”

“Must be from when they was stompin’ me.”

Dany turned and poked her head around the screen. “Gilly? Can you stitch up a wound?”

“I can in a minute,” she answered.

“I can do it,” Jon offered. “Done it a few times on the farm.” He joined them in their little corner, still pale, but no longer so wild-eyed. “Where is it?”

“Back of her head,” Dany said as she helped Arya turn slightly in the chair.

Jon held his hands out, staring at them with a scowl. The right one was stained red with blood. “Sorry, I... I shoulda noticed,” he mumbled as he gently moved her hair aside. He hissed through his teeth and went to the sink to wash his hands. He grabbed a needle and suture thread out of Sam's supplies and came to stand beside her again.

“It’s gonna hurt,” he warned.

“I don’t know that I can hurt more than I already do,” Arya replied.

Dany helped Jon in his work, dabbing the blood away and holding a light so he could see. All Arya knew was the utter exhaustion dragging at her bones and that Sam and Gilly were far too quiet as they worked on Gendry. She stared at his bloody clothes in a pile by the wall, one of his boots looked slippery in the light. She did everything she could to hold back the tears.

When Jon was finished, he moved the screen away and pulled another chair beside hers. “Can you tell me who it was?” he asked softly. “What happened?”

She looked at Gendry, feeling hatred the likes of which she’d never felt before burning in her chest as she listed their names. “Joffrey. Meryn Trant. The Mountain. Polliver. Ramsay. Locke. They ran us off the road. Said they were searchin’ for shine...” She closed her eyes, the nightmare come to life replaying in her mind, her head still pounding, vision swimming. “The Mountain… he had Gendry in the mud...” She swallowed at the lump rising in her throat, but there was no stopping it. “I’m gonna be sick,” she gasped.  

Dany produced a pail just in time for her to empty the paltry contents of her stomach, the painful heaves racking her body and leaving tears streaming down her face, worsening the pain in her head. Someone was holding a cool cloth against her forehead and she moaned, grateful for the scant relief it brought.

“Jon,” Sam called, “I need you to come hold Gendry down.”

Warning bells blared loud and frightful through the swirling pain in her head. “Why!? Why are you holdin’ him down?” she yelled, trying to stand but Dany forced her back down.

Sam looked at her, pity etched in his round face. “His shoulder is dislocated,” he explained. “I need Jon to hold him still so I can pop it back in place.”

Jon got up and put his hands on Gendry as he was told while Sam took hold of his arm.

“On the count of three. One, two, three.” The sound of the bone popping back in place was drowned out by Gendry’s sudden scream.

She clapped her hands over to her ears and slammed her eyes shut. Soft hands rubbed her shoulders as another wave of nausea rushed through her. She bent over the pail again, dry heaves seizing her body. The cold rag returned and someone helped lean her against the wall to rest.

“She needs to drink this.”

She opened her eyes. Gilly had brought her a glass of water. Quite suddenly she was thirsting to death and desperate to get the bitter taste of bile rinsed from her mouth. She took it but caught sight of Jon as he stood frozen at the end of the table.

He was staring at her in horror. Dany stepped in front of her, quickly pulling the robe and blanket back in place around her. But it was too late, Jon had seen her, how they’d left her, stripped naked and vulnerable. He was a hair’s breadth away from going on a murder spree, looking every bit the feral wolf, hatred glowing in his black eyes.

He looked ready to kill with his bare hands, and part of her wanted him to do just that. They needed to suffer for what they'd done.

But now she knew what he'd been trying to tell her that day in the woods behind Dany's house.

“You _can't_ , Jon,” she pleaded, “They'll kill you, or worse. I was wrong and you was right.” He wasn't listening, her words doing nothing to tame his fury. She grasped Dany's hand, shaking it. “Tell him, Dany. Make him see. Please,” she begged. “You know what'll happen if he goes after ‘em.”

Dany squeezed her hand assuringly and went to Jon. He startled when she touched him, as if he hadn’t noticed her approach. Dany ignored his fierce scowl and pulled him over to stand in the doorway, to give them some privacy Arya supposed.

She watched them anxiously as Dany spoke to him soft and calm, never letting him go, grounding him with her touch while Jon whispered furiously in return. His eyes kept darting toward her and Gendry as they argued and Dany finally dragged him from the room. She'd make him see reason, she _had_ to.

Sam drew Arya’s attention as he heaved a sigh and stepped back from the table and to the sink to wash his hands.

“Is he gonna...” she couldn’t finish the question, knowing the wrong answer would be the end of her world.

“He’s alive,” Sam said as he turned to look at her. “He’s got a broken nose, broken orbital bone, missing three teeth. Possibly a fractured jaw. Dislocated shoulder. I counted three broken ribs, a few more cracked, two broken fingers, and a broken wrist. We’re gonna wrap it in plaster. I’ve taped his nose, I’ll splint his fingers... but his face and ribs... I could wire his jaw shut if I was at the hospital, but, I can’t even determine if it’s broken without an x-ray. One ray of light is he doesn’t appear to have a punctured lung.” He heaved another deep sigh. “I gave him something for pain, but I don’t think it will work very long. I'll need to go to the hospital to get more. I wanna move him into the bedroom down the hall. He'll be more comfortable there.”

“I’ll help you,” Jon offered, walking back into the room. He no longer looked ready to kill, just sad and resolved. Dany came in behind him and gave Arya a nod.  

Gilly had moved to Nymeria, who was still laying at Arya’s feet. She was favoring one of her paws. Gilly grew up around animals, knew them better than people. Arya trusted her wolf in her hands. Dany stayed at her side as Jon and Sam moved Gendry.

After looking Nymeria over, Gilly stood, smiling softly. “Nothing seems to be broken, but I think she’s had a really bad night as well. Whose blood is on her muzzle?”

“Joffrey and Meryn’s.”

Gilly’s smile grew. “She’s still got a bit of flesh in her teeth. She got ‘em good.”

Jon returned with Sam who crouched in front of her, holding up a finger. “Follow my finger with your eyes.”

Arya did as he said, but had to close her eyes, dizziness overwhelming her. Sam took a deep breath. “You’ve got a concussion. I need to know what happened to you. If I need to...” he swallowed thickly, looking over his shoulder at Jon and Dany.

None of them said a word, but Jon and Dany quietly left the room. Sam turned back to her, his eyes kind and understanding. Concerned. “Arya, if you can tell me right now… do I need to administer a rape examination?”

She shook her head. “They didn’t rape me.”

He looked unconvinced. “Arya, I know that you may not want to admit it, or tell anyone right now. I understand that, but the sooner I’m able to examine–”

Arya growled. “I’m tellin’ the truth! They didn’t rape me! They held me, cut my clothes off, stomped me, made me watch ‘em beat Gendry, taunted me...but the _didn’t_ rape me!” She wanted to scream. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, forcing it down.

Finally, Sam nodded. “Alright, I'm sorry.”

He bid her to stand, stepping forward to help her when she nearly collapsed back into her chair, but she waved him away, cursing how weak she felt. But when it came to getting on the exam table, she couldn’t refuse the help from Sam and Gilly. Gilly covered her chest and hips with folded sheets and began cleaning the few bits of mud and blood Dany had missed. Sam deemed her few cuts as superficial, dabbing ointment over them. They sat her up and he squatted down to secured her ankle with gauze wrapping.

He looked up at her with sadness and worry marking his face. “Arya... I was the one who had to examine Jeyne after Ramsay... I won’t say nothin’.”

Arya hung her head, which sent it spinning once more, and pressed her lips together, willing herself to be patient–he was just trying to help. “They didn’t rape me. Joffrey said I looked too much like a boy. The Mountain said he didn’t fuck whores while he was on duty,” she whispered. “They didn’t rape me.”

Sam released a breath and nodded. “Alright. I’ll change those bandages in the morning. Jon did a good job with the cut on your head, but I'll check on it too. You should know, you’ve got bruises forming as boot prints on your back.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Get her one of your nightgowns for her to sleep in,” he asked Gilly, then looked at her again. “I don’t want you sleeping for at least another hour, but I’ll take you to Gendry.”

She caught his arm as he went to put his tools away. “I need you to tell me the truth. Is he gonna die?”

Sam put his hand on hers and frowned. “I’m sorry, Arya, but I don’t know. If he makes it twenty-four hours, I’ll feel better about his chances. But I can’t promise you anything right now.”

Arya nodded, welcoming the numbness his words had raised. Gilly returned with a nightgown. She took it from her and slipped it over her head. Sam helped her down from the table and they made the slow trek down the hallway to Gendry’s room.

The lights were low inside, only one lantern burning on the bedside table. Dany stood near the end of the bed with her arms around Jon. They looked up as they entered, both wiping at their faces, but all her focus was on Gendry. He was wrapped in blankets and even in the dim lighting, she could see how swollen his face was. The tape on his nose stood stark white against his bruised skin.

Sam helped her to the chair beside the bed and looked at Jon. “You need to go tell your family what's happened. Gilly and I will sit up with our guns and protect them with our lives,” he promised.

Nymeria’s whimpers drew her attention, she hobbled into the room and settled beside Arya's chair.

Jon came and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

She leaned into him as she'd done earlier, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent. Always snow. “Go home and protect them,” she said softly. “Let em know. ”

Jon took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “I'll be back first thing in the mornin’,” he promised before straightening up and letting her go.

She nodded and looked at Dany who came over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Take care of him,” she murmured with a pointed glance to Jon. “He’ll find a way to blame himself.”

Dany nodded. “I will. We'll see you soon.”

Their eyes lingered on her as they left the room, Sam and Gilly with them, then she was alone with her husband.

She crawled from the chair onto the bed and kneeled beside him, her heart seeming to shatter within her chest. She’d never seen anybody beat so bad. Both of his eyes were awful shades of red and purple and swollen shut. There was cotton shoved up both nostrils. Bruises, cuts, and scrapes covered nearly every inch of him. She took his hand gently in hers and finally allowed the anguish she had been pushing away to take over.

Sam had splinted two of his fingers, but she leaned her head against his hand anyway, letting the tears roll down her face, the sobs to escape her. She knew what she almost lost that night, most of her heart there beside her. Nymeria whining at the foot of the bed, and Gendry, broken, unconscious, every breath a struggle.

His hand moved, rubbed over her hair.

She sat up with a jerk, looking at him again. “Gendry,” she gasped, her pounding heart lodging in her throat, a sob getting tangled up in it, sounding worse than pitiful. She took his hand back in hers, barely able to see him through the tears flooding her eyes.

“My scrappy wife,” he whispered. He groaned and clenched his jaw. She placed a careful hand on his chest, his heart beating beneath her fingers a balm to her soul. “My scrappy wife doesn’t cry.”

Arya leaned forward and brushed her hand lightly over his face. “I’ve never had to watch the life beaten out of you,” she whispered back. Her lips were dry, her tongue worrying over the multiple cuts on her lips. She released a shaky breath, wanting to lighten the mood–that’s what he would want. “If you leave me, Gendry, for any reason, I’ll hunt you down in the afterlife and spend all eternity kickin’ your ass.”

He got out part of a chuckle before he hissed out a breath. “At least we’d be together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry are ambushed on the road by Deputy Gregor Clegane, Joffrey, Meryn Trant, Polliver, Locke, and Ramsay. Gendry is severely beaten while Arya is forced to watch. Arya is threatened with rape, her clothes cut off of her, and then mutilation, but Nymeria saves her by attacking Joffrey and Meryn, but they soon stomp her into submission. Arya tries to get hold of her knife, but she's then beaten and stomped into the ground. When they all leave, she manages to get Gendry and Nymeria into the truck while she's suffering from a bum ankle and a concussion. She drives them all to Sam who works to save Gendry's life. Gilly is sent to Dany's to get Jon. Once they both arrive, they assist in taking care of Arya and Gendry. Sam moves Gendry into a spare bedroom in the house and asks Arya if she was raped and she tells him that she wasn't. They get Arya patched up and into the room with Gendry. Sam and Gilly promise to sit outside their room with guns until Jon and Dany return. Jon and Dany leave to tell Robb and Co. on the mountain what happened. Arya is crying and Gendry wakes long enough to tell her that his scrappy wife doesn't cry and she tells him if he leaves her, she'll come after him and spend all eternity kicking his ass. Gendry quips that at least they'd be together.


	22. And I See Fire, Hollowing Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone else learns of the attack and the aftermath strikes the Starks in their heart. Plans are made for Arya and Gendry's care and Robb plans for the future of his family. Rickon and Bran must leave home for their own safety and no one is happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gorgeous mood board was made by justwanderingneverlost
> 
> We know the last chapter was brutal, this is the aftermath of that. We are hopeful that you guys will stick with us and continue on reading. And we assure you that they do get some revenge soon. Thank you so much for the love and support you guys have shown on this story, even when the chapters are brutal. And we will let you know, there is still more brutality to come, but everything happens for a reason and comes with a price.

 

_Oh, misty eye of the mountain below_  
_Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls_  
_And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke_  
_Keep watching over Durin's son_  
_If this is to end in fire_  
_Then we should all burn together_  
_Watch the flames climb high into the night_  
_Calling out for the rope, sent by and we will_  
_Watch the flames burn on_  
_and on the mountainside hey_  
  
_And if we should die tonight_  
_Then we should all die together_  
_Raise a glass of wine for the last time_  
_Calling out for the rope_  
_Prepare as we will_  
_Watch the flames burn on_  
_and on the mountainside_  
  
_Desolation comes upon the sky_  
_Now I see fire, inside the mountain_  
_I see fire, burning the trees_  
_And I see fire, hollowing souls_  
_And I see fire, blood in the breeze_  
_And I hope that you'll remember me_  
  
_And if the night is burning_  
_I will cover my eyes_  
_For if the dark returns then_  
_My brothers will die_  
_And as the sky's falling down_  
_It crashed into this lonely town_  
_And with that shadow upon the ground_  
_I hear my people screaming out_  
_Now I see fire, inside the mountain_  
_I see fire, burning the trees_  
_And I see fire, hollowing souls_  
_And I see fire, blood in the breeze_  
_I see fire, oh you know I saw a city burning (fire)_  
_And I see fire, feel the heat upon my skin (fire)_  
_And I see fire (fire)_  
_And I see fire (burn on and on and mountains side)_  
  
_I See Fire_  
_**Ed Sheeran**_

 

**ROBB**

 

Robb reached for his gun and aimed at the door, slowly pulling back the hammer as he slipped his finger over the trigger, waiting, not breathing as the footfalls came closer.

 

A knock sounded sharp through the room. “Robb.”

 

Heart near beating out of his chest, he lowered the gun, sucking in a lung full of air. While relieved to hear the familiar voice of his brother he knew something was bad wrong, Jon wouldn't be there otherwise.

 

Margaery sat up beside him, reaching for her robe. “Was that Jon?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep. She turned on the lamp.

 

He grunted in answer, climbing out of bed and jerking on his britches, his nerves twisted tight. Fear had him dragging his feet, a dozen different griefs filling his mind. Knowing there was no avoiding whatever it was he opened the door.

 

Jon stood there, a ghost with wide black eyes and a white, blood covered shirt. A nightmare come to life. Robb's heart sank like a stone, his veins turning to ice. Margaery let out a smothered cry behind him.

 

He grabbed Jon by the arms, eyes searching him frantically for wounds bad enough to cause such bleeding. But there were none. Robb’s hands fell to his side. It wasn't Jon's blood, which meant...

 

Bronn came into the hallway, staring at Jon wide-eyed and slack-jawed, just as they were. “What’s happened? Whose blood is that, Jon?” he whispered, grabbing his arm and pulling him around.

 

“Outside,” Jon mumbled. “Let’s talk outside.”

 

Margaery had a death grip on his shirt, he pulled  her hand loose and took it in his, following Jon out of the house, Bronn on their heels. His breath came easier once they stepped onto the porch. Dany was alive and well, but then realization hit. She was leaning against _Gendry’s_ truck, her face tear stained and heartsick as Jon walked toward her.

 

Despair the likes of which he'd never known rose up, nearly choking him. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the porch post. “Where… where are they?”

 

Jon rubbed a hand over his face, only to pull it away and stare at it in horror before desperately wiping both hands down his shirt. Dany grabbed his wrists and stilled him. “They’re at Sam’s office,” she answered over her shoulder and turned back to Jon, whispering to him.

 

“Are they both… alive?” Margaery asked, sparing Robb from forcing the words out.

 

_Please God._

 

Jon nodded, still staring at his hands. Dany let him go, but hovered, as if she feared he'd take off running or fall to pieces right in front of her if she didn't watch him close enough. “They got ambushed on the road,” he said, “Mountain pulled em over for shine. They beat...Gendry’s in a bad way,” he choked out. “Sam said he’s got a lotta broken bones in his face, ribs... fingers.” He looked up at Dany. “Wrist?” She nodded. Jon drew in a shuddering breath, it rushed right back out again. “Arya...they stomped her into the ground...she’s got a cut on her head… She didn't… she was…”

 

Robb watched his brother try to hold himself together, his jaw clenched, shaking hands shoved into his hair, gripping it as he hung his head.

 

He wanted to help him, knew he needed to move, to go to him and hold him, but he couldn't. He was stuck, frozen in place almost as if he wasn't in his own body anymore, but looking down at the dreadfulness of it all from somewhere far away. Some horrible performance being played out in front of him.

 

Dany reached for Jon, but he turned away, pacing the yard. She took a step to follow him, then changed her mind, wrapping her arms around herself and stared at the ground over her shoulder. “They stripped her, took her clothes. All of them,” she said slowly.

 

Margaery's grip on his hand grew painful, her nails digging into his skin. He welcomed it, anything to drown out the horror swirling within him. “Did they...they…?” He could hear the tears in her voice, as she again asked a question he couldn't.

 

Shaking her head, Dany grasped Jon’s arm as he walked past her, stilling him again. “She said no. They threatened to, but didn’t.”

 

Robb fell against the porch post, taking Margaery with him. She trembled within his arms. Or maybe it was him that was trembling.

 

Bronn groaned and ran a hand over his face. “The boy gonna make it?”

 

Jon pulled Dany toward the steps and sank down onto the top one, shaking his head. “I dunno. Sam doesn't know.”

 

“Is Arya?” Robb asked him.

 

“If he does, she will,” Jon whispered. There was no need to say what would happen if Gendry didn't.

 

Robb turned to Bronn, finding it difficult to force words around the lump in his throat. “Are they safe at Sam’s?”

 

Dany jerked her head around, frowning at him. “No, they’re not, but Gendry isn’t in any shape to be moved. Not yet. Sam and Gilly were both sitting up with their guns, and Nymeria is alright. She was smart enough to stop moving once they started hurting her. So, they have her, too.”

 

Robb sat on the step beside Jon. “What do we do? How many was it? Who was it?” Margaery’s fingers moved through his hair, the little touch giving him only so much comfort when he wanted to beat someone to death with his own hands.

 

When Jon didn't respond, Dany’s voice broke through the silence, “The Mountain, Ramsay, Locke, Joffrey, Meryn, and Polliver. From what Arya said, they mainly beat on Gendry. Made her watch. Nymeria took a bite of Joffrey and Meryn. Made her watch them beat her too.”

 

“And you’re sure they didn’t...” Robb couldn’t say the word, afraid he’d vomit if he did.

 

“Arya says they didn’t. She’s been through enough that I won’t second guess her,” Dany said firmly. “They cut her clothes off, and...you can see the fucking boot marks on her back. But if she says they didn’t then you have to believe her.”

 

Bronn spoke up then. “Alright, here’s what we’ll do. Tomorrow, we’ll go get em and bring em here. At least one a us can be up on guard. Davos needs to know. Let him see em. But my guess is he won’t be able to touch em since they had a law man with em. Did they bust up all the shine?”

 

Jon didn't bother picking his head up. “I didn’t even look.”

 

Bronn walked down the steps and lifted the burlap and shook his head. “There’s only three cases missin’.”

 

Robb huffed out a breath. “Olenna and Tyrion. They got em comin’ from Tyrion's?” he asked, looking at Jon.

 

He shook his head, finally raising it. “Tyrion hates Joffrey, an’ he’s always been good ta us. My gut says he ain’t got no part a’ this.”

 

Bronn looked at them and sighed. “Alright, so, tomorrow, we’ll go get em and move em–”

 

“Gendry don’t just have a scrape on his knee!” Jon spat. “His eyes are swollen shut, his face… Ya can't even tell it's him. He’s got broken bones. He needs to be there with the doc!” Dany ran a hand over his back and pulled him toward her, but Jon didn't back off an inch. Even half hidden by shadows Robb could see the hate in his eyes.

 

But Bronn didn't care. “He needs to be where we can protect him and we can’t do that with him in town!” he shot back, then heaved another sigh. “I’ve been here a while. I care about em too. But understand, I’m being paid to protect Margaery. I do that by being around her. I’m willin’ to protect your whole family but only if they're near Margaery. They _need_ to be here.” Jon shifted and he held up a hand to silence him. “I know! I fuckin’ know. But they gotta be moved.” He let it sink in for a moment, waiting for Jon to accept the inevitable. When his brother no longer looked ready to lunge, he went on. “I don’t like this idea none either… but y’all need to be thinkin’ ‘bout what to do with the boys.”

 

Robb grunted and threw his hands up. “Like what?”

 

“Sansa?” Margaery suggested softly. “She and Dickon said at our wedding whatever we needed from them...”

 

“They won’t like bein’ sent away.”.

 

Jon stared at his hands. “Rickon can't take no more, Robb. And we can't make him. Send Shaggydog and Summer, too. That'll help some.”

 

Robb watched as his brother went to rubbing at his hands again. He met Dany's worried eyes over Jon's back. “Why don’t you two go have a bath?” he suggested, “We can talk more in the mornin’. Decide who and how we’re gonna get em home.”

 

Jon stood but Dany grabbed his arm. “Tell them.”

 

They all turned their eyes to Jon who seemed to be having a war of wills with Dany. He remained silent and Dany rolled her eyes and let him go. “A few nights ago, Alliser pulled Jon over, made him get out of the truck while he searched it. He put Jon in the dirt, beat on him for nothing.”

 

Robb was on his feet, looking him over. “How long ago?”

 

Jon hung his head. “Four days,” he mumbled.

 

He gripped his arm and shook him a bit. “Why didn’t ya tell us?”

 

That boiling hate flashed in his eyes again. “My fuckin’ pride,” he bit out. “I always knew he hated me, I just didn’t know why. He made sure to tell me ‘fore he spit on me. He was in love with Ma. She got knocked up and I killed her...he’s hated me ever since. Said he can't wait to kill me for it.”

 

Dany gasped. “You didn't tell me that!”

 

“What good would it a’ done?” he asked her. “It would’ve upset you more than you already was. Ain't like we don't know they all wanna kill us anyway.”

 

Bronn rubbed the back of his neck. “The attacks are becomin’ more frequent and increasin’ in violence. We need ta talk to Olenna. We need more people.”

 

“We can’t house em,” Robb responded.

 

“If we send the little ones to your sister–”

 

“Give away their rooms?”

 

Bronn stepped toward the four of them. “You need to fuckin’ listen! You’re in the middle of a war. You're fuckin’ losin’! The last thing you want is another raid on this place with them here! I can fuckin’ tell ya that someone dies in that one. Listen to me!” he said with a snap of his fingers in Robb’s face. If his words hadn't rang so true Robb might have broke them off. “Ya wanna be the man of this family, you wanna make sure Bran and Rickon live to be your age? Or your baby? Then you gotta start plannin’ for a war.” He looked at Dany. “Help me make em see!”

 

Everyone turned to Dany. She sighed and wrapped her arm around herself again. “He’s right, the boys need to go. Someone needs to be awake at all times. You need more people. The Lannisters are hated in this town. You have friends who will help you. It’s time the Starks call on their forces. I’ve called mine. Olenna will call hers. Moves need to be made.”

 

“And what about you?” Margaery asked. “We can’t protect you in town...”

 

Dany heaved another sigh. “I’m still the teacher in this town. I need to be close to the school house during the week. Jon is staying with me. Davos drops by the class twice a day. I know it seems reckless, but it feels just as reckless to abandon my students who didn’t ask for any of this. And their parents have been supportive and understanding given what happened with Ramsay. He hasn’t come back to the school.”

 

“ _Yet_ ,” Jon said, his tone ominous. “You heard what Arya said. Ramsay was savin’ himself for someone… We all know that means you.”

 

She looked away from Jon's piercing gaze and down at the steps, licking her lips. “He won’t try anything in broad daylight again and if he tries at night, well...we hardly sleep when you’re at my place anyway,” she huffed.

 

Bronn chuckled. “Jesus, well done, lad.” Jon cut him another hate-filled glare and he sobered right up. “You need to reconsider your position at the school,” he told Dany, “find someone to take your place till this is over, move here for awhile.”

 

“I can take–”

 

“Listen, girl, I know you think you can handle yourself. That you seen it all. But whatcha gonna do if you’re alone and Ramsay and Locke get tired of waitin’? They’ll rape ya.”

 

Dany bit her lips and fixed him with a fiery stare. “While it wouldn’t be the first time, I’m also not going down without a fight. They’ll suffer for every inch they try to take.”

 

“And you’ll suffer for every inch you make em take,” Bronn warned.

 

Jon stepped off into the yard, his hands on his head as he paced a wide loop. He came to a stop in front of Dany and put his hands on his hips, staring up at her like a man in danger of losing his soul and she was the only one who could save him.

 

Dany, for her part, looked as if Jon was tearing her heart from her chest. She fought against his pull until something seemed to visibly snap between them, then Jon was walking into her open arms. “I'll think about it,” she whispered, to who Robb wasn’t sure.

 

Bronn ran a hand over his head. “I’ll stay up and keep watch. All a’ ya get inside. It's cold as a witch's titties out here,” he said as he used his handkerchief to unscrew the porchlight.

 

Dany followed Jon into the house. He and Margaery stood to do the same, but Bronn grabbed his arm before they could get too far. “You best hope she can pull him out of that,” he whispered, nodding his head toward the front door, “cause he's slipping down a slope most can't climb back up.”

 

Robb jerked out of his hold while leaning into his space, eyes narrowed. “He'll be fine, you don't know the half a’ what he's been through,” he hissed, bristling at the insinuation.

 

Margaery pushed him toward the door, no doubt sensing how close to snapping he was. “No one is as close to them as Jon, you know that,” she added, none too nicely. “Give him some time. And trust Dany, she'll get him through it.”

 

She had to push him past the bathroom. He’d gotten rooted just outside the door hearing Jon's muffled breakdown coming from inside. Getting them to their room she closed the door softly behind them and pulled him into her arms. He squeezed her against him, trying to hold back the tears he didn’t want to let fall. But the thought of his baby sister, who would fight anyone at any time, beaten and hurt rushed forward in his mind and he let out a sob against his will.

 

*~*

 

Jon had taken Dany and Rickon to school in the car, then would head to Sam’s to be with Arya and Gendry for the day. Bronn was sleeping and Margaery was watching from the front porch as he opened the door to the truck. He nearly vomited what little he’d had for breakfast. The stench of blood was overwhelming. It had dried to the seat, the floor...the inside was covered in it.

 

Margaery gasped behind him and he watched as she turned away and emptied her stomach into the bushes. He rubbed over her back until she was finished. She fell to her knees, crying and he could do nothing but wrap his arms around her.

 

She finally moved to stand up and he let her go, then wiped the tears from her face. “Stay here, keep the gun in your lap, and you hollar for Bronn if you hear a car.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

He took a deep breath. “I’m...takin’ the truck to the barn to clean the blood out of it. I’ll keep the doors open,” he said softly.

 

“Hold on.” She went into the house and came back with an old tablecloth. “Put this on the seat so you can sit on it without getting blood all over you.”

 

Robb knew he’d come back covered in it anyway, but he’d do it to give her peace of mind. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back.”

 

Once parked in the barn, he climbed out and opened the both doors. He stood staring at the mess for a long while, trying to force the lump from his throat as he thought about Arya, struggling to get them to safety, in pain, naked and alone. It was a miracle they were still alive.

 

Closing his eyes, he sank to the ground, tears falling down his face. His heart hurt, his blood called out for vengeance, but sheer terror left him almost paralyzed. He thumped his head against the wall, trying to distract from the pain in his chest.

 

He only allowed himself a few moments, then pulled himself up and got to work, concentrating from one minute to the next.

 

*~*

 

When the water from the seats began running clear instead of red, he pulled the truck out into the sun, leaving both doors open, hoping it would dry out. He stopped, seeing Margaery come out of Arya and Gendry’s house with a basket full of clothes.

 

“Get it clean?” she asked, as he walked toward her.

 

He nodded. “Finally. Whatcha doin’ in there?”

 

“Tidying up a little. Changed the sheets on their bed, got their dirty clothes. I put the first aid kit over there in case we needed it.”

 

He took the basket from her and led the way back to the house.

 

Bran met them in the kitchen, a heavy sigh escaping him when neither of them said anything and avoided his gaze. “Tell me what’s happened,” he insisted.

 

Robb looked at him, knowing if Bran was saying that then he already knew too much, but he couldn't help the want to protect him. “Bran…”

 

“No. Gendry’s truck’s here, but Gendry and Arya ain’t. Jon’s been gone all day. Bronn was up all night. And you’re covered in what looks to be blood. Tell me what's happened.”

 

Robb looked down at himself. His pants were stained with large dark patches of it. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath before meeting Bran's again. “Arya and Gendry were attacked last night.”

 

“Are they alright?”

 

He shook his head. “Gendry’s… he's in bad shape. Arya’s stayin’ with him until we move em here tonight.”

 

“If Gendry’s so hurt, why ain’t you leavin’ him where he has help?”

 

“It’s ain't safe.”

 

“This place ain’t exactly safe either.”

 

“I know. Which is why...” he looked to Margaery, then pulled out a chair to sit directly in front of Bran, “we need to send you and Rickon to stay with Sansa for a while.”

 

“You think we’ll be safe there?” he asked, scowling.

 

Robb lowered his head. “I don’t know. But I _do know_ you ain’t safe _here_.”

 

His brother's blue eyes flickered between the two of them. “When?”

 

“Next day or so. Sansa already offered,” he whispered, then heaved a sigh. “Believe me, I don’t want you or Rickon gone...”

 

“We need to go,” Bran said softly. “Rickon’s too little, I’m a cripple. We can’t help and you’d only worry ‘bout us.” Margaery frowned and folded her arms over her chest, her lip held firmly between her teeth as Bran looked at her. “You’re stayin’?”

 

She nodded. “Yes.”

 

“You should get some help from your grandmother. At least until Dany’s people get here.”

 

Robb tilted his head, examining his little brother. “And how do you know ‘bout that?”

 

“All that talk ‘bout thin walls and you still don’t realize how easy voices carry,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t mind goin’ to Sansa’s cause I don’t wanna be underfoot. But Rickon will be furious.”

 

“I know. I might let Jon tell him so he’s mad at him instead of me.”

 

Bran gave him a small smile. “Chicken.”

 

He shrugged, chuckling, and ruffled Bran’s hair, but sobered quickly. “I really wish there was another option.”

 

“There ain't,” Bran said, shaking his head. “You’re protectin’ us by sendin’ us away. I know that.”

 

Margaery put a hand on Robb’s shoulder. “Go change so I can wash your clothes with these.”

 

Robb gave a nod and stood. He dropped a kiss on top of Bran’s head and left the room.

 

*~*

 

Jon had returned, leaving Rickon at the house with Bran and Margaery. Robb kissed her cheek and promised to fill her in when he returned then made his way to the barn, ready for news about his sister and her husband.

 

“Gendry made it through the night,” Jon said the moment he walked in. “Sam feels better about things. He don’t want us to move him but said if we did, he’d drive up here every evenin’ to check on him. He showed me how to change his bandages so I can show everyone else.” He ran a hand through his messy hair, exchanging a look with Dany.

 

Robb clenched his teeth as he waited for the rest. He knew Jon was holding back. “And like we thought, Davos can't do nothin’ cause it was done as _official_ police business and they said they was both resistin’. Joffrey’s pitchin a fit in town cause Nymeria bit him, claimin’ she’s rabid.” He shook his head. “If we’re goin’ to move Gendry, we need to do it tonight, late, and we need to take the truck so we can lay him down in the back. Arya, too.”

 

“How is she?”

 

Jon shook his head. “I ain’t ever seen her like this. Ever. She’s too quiet. She ain’t crying in front of anyone, but Sam said he heard her sobbin’ last night.”

 

Dany rubbed a hand over his arm. “If anyone has earned it...”

 

“When are your people gonna be here?” Robb asked her.

 

“Five days?” she answered, unsure. “I got Missandei’s letter this afternoon. They’re coming, I just can't promise an exact time.”

 

“How many?”

 

She shrugged and shook her head. “Wouldn’t say. That kind of information is dangerous.”

 

 _Five days, maybe more. Hopefully less._ He pushed it aside and focused on the here and now. _“_ So, who’s goin’ to get Arya and Gendry and who's stayin’ here?”

 

“You and I’ll go,” Jon answered. Dany cleared her throat and he rolled his eyes. “Can’t you stay here?”

 

“No. I’ll drive. You two load them up. That way the truck stays running and I’ll have a gun on me.”

 

Bronn heaved a sigh. “I’ll stay and protect Margaery and the boys.”

 

Jon nodded. “We might need some help unloadin’ em...”

 

“You already have that,” Bronn responded, no quip or joke followed. Robb felt the weight of that in his bones. Bronn eyed him then. “You need to go to Highgarden and tell Olenna what’s happened, but do that tomorrow.”

 

“I’ll take Margaery with me,” he replied. “She needs to get out of here for a bit, I think.”

 

“Take your guns.”

 

Robb nodded. “I will.”

 

*~*

 

It was nearing one in the morning when they pulled up to the back door of Sam’s. Dany cocked her gun as he and Jon hopped out of the truck. Sam let them in straight away and Gilly stayed near the door with her shotgun in hand.

 

No one said a word as Sam led them to a bedroom. His stomach dropped the moment he saw her. She was sitting up in a chair. There was a bruise along her cheekbone and her lip was split. She was obviously wearing one of Gilly’s dresses as it hung well past her knees. He immediately crossed over to her and wrapped his arms around her. “How you feelin’?”

 

She hugged him back, but weakly, and let out a shaky breath. “I’ll be better once we get em home safe,” she whispered.

 

Sam handed her a black bag. “That’s got bandages and Gendry’s medicine in it. Make sure he takes it to keep the pain away. The more he sleeps, the better chance he has to heal,” he said and passed her a crutch. Robb helped her stand and watched as she hobbled to the door.

 

He heaved a sigh. “Hang on.” He crossed to her and scooped her up in his arms. She scowled at him fiercely. “Don’t fight me. We need to make movin’ quick. I’m gonna put you in the back with Gendry,” he said softly as he passed Gilly at the door and settled her on the open tailgate. “On the ride up, you stay layin’ down with him. We’ll try not to jostle him too much.”

 

She nodded and scooted further back into the bed. He reached into the cab of the truck and grabbed one of the shotguns, and handed it to Arya. “Just in case.” He rushed back into the house and found Sam and Jon pulling up the edges of the quilt Gendry was lying on.

 

Sam tucked them around him, swaddling him as if he were a babe. “It’ll keep him from jostling so much,” he explained.

 

“How do we move him without hurtin’ him?” Robb asked.

 

Gendry groaned at that. “Just move me. I’ll survive,” he whispered.

 

He and Jon exchanged a look. He held up his hand. “I got him,” he said softly. “Just make sure you’re in the truck bed when I get there.”

 

Jon nodded and he and Sam watched as Robb got a good grip beneath Gendry's back, then beneath his legs. “I'm sorry,” he breathed and lifted him as gently as he could, but Gendry still hollered and gasped for breath.

 

Jon rushed out the door. Sam hovered, following closely behind. When he got outside, Jon was already in the truck bed, Arya sitting up, looking as if she was ready to help. He shook his head at her and she actually did what she was told. Gendry groaned as he settled him on the tailgate and again as Jon took hold of his torso. Careful as they could they eased him onto the pallet of blankets they'd lined the truck bed with. Nymeria leaped into the back with them and laid against Gendry's side, opposite Arya, her fluffy body staying close to him.

 

Sam made sure he was wrapped securely and then looked at them all. “I wish you would reconsider–”

 

“We can’t,” Jon said and hopped out of the truck. Sam followed him down with a sigh.

 

Robb folded up the tailgate as Jon hugged Sam goodbye, then he shook his hand and waved at Gilly. He didn’t have the door shut good before Dany had them heading down the road, he and Jon both with a gun in their hands.

 

Robb glanced out the back window. Arya had her arm draped over Gendry's chest. “Go faster, Dany.”

 

“Any faster and it could hurt him,” she said softly. “Especially once I get on the mountain road.”

 

Robb knew she was right, but his anxiety was nearly choking him. They would get into a fire fight if they were stopped. He wouldn’t let any more harm come to his family while he was still drawing a breath.

 

Dany hissed between her teeth. “We’re being followed.”

 

He and Jon whipped around, but were both soon sighing in relief. They knew that car. “It’s Davos,” Jon answered and Dany visibly sagged.

 

The rest of the trip was made in tense silence, everyone's nerves on edge. When they reached home, Davos pulled into their front yard as Dany backed the truck up to Arya's porch, Bronn and Margaery racing across the yard toward them.

 

Bronn came to a stop at seeing the battered couple, reality sinking into his weathered face. Margaery reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. He looked over at her, squeezing them back, then moved to help Jon. It took both of them to lift Gendry from the truck and into his bedroom, their poor brother in law grunting against the pain the entire way.

 

Bronn helped Arya in and got her settled as well. She took a deep breath, leaning her head back against the headboard as Dany placed the bag Sam had sent with them beside their bed.

 

Davos had come in and was quietly looking over the pair of them, his face pained. He gestured for the rest of them to follow him outside. “Glad you got em here safe,” he said once they made it on the porch. “I’ll keep makin’ stops at the schoolhouse every day.” He shook his head and Robb could see tears in his eyes. “I’ll also keep a check on the road. Make sure you’re not blockaded. If you need anythin’...”

 

Jon put a hand on his shoulder. “We appreciate it. If you could escort Sam up here when he comes to check on Gendry...”

 

“I will. Drive him myself,” Davos promised. “All a’ you be careful,” he said and walked back to his car.

 

They all went inside again, each shuffling around for a place to stand, the small room seeming to shrink around them.

 

“I’ve got plates made for you if you’re hungry,” Margaery said, breaking the awkward silence. “Even made soup, thought it would be easier for Gen–”

 

“That’s fine,” Arya cut her off as she looked around at everyone else but Margaery. Robb scowled, watching his wife lower her head. “I’d prefer it if you weren’t all standin’ around lookin’ at us like we’re gonna explode. Gendry needs sleep and I need all a’ you outta here,” Arya sniped.

 

“Good to see you’re still bein’ an ass,” Bronn chuckled.

 

She shrugged. “My body was beaten. Don’t mean it changed my spirit.”

 

“Good,” Dany replied, managing to pull the smallest of smiles from Arya.

 

The sound of soft foot falls reached their ears, followed by sniffling. They all turned to see Rickon come through the door. He froze at seeing Arya’s face. She quickly turned away from him to try and hide it, but there was no hiding Gendry. Rickon's blue eyes filled with tears, his little lip wobbling. Robb was closest so he grabbed him up, Margaery and Dany right behind him as he carried Rickon out of the house and back to theirs.

 

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked him. “It's the middle of the night.”

 

“What happened?” he cried. “What happened to em?”

 

Margaery and Dany were both in a rush to shush him, but he held up a hand. “I’ve got em,” he told them and sat down in one of the rockers on the front porch.

 

Dany looked at Margaery. “I’ll help you carry the food over.”

 

“I’ll get the food if you can get their laundry,” she said softly.

 

They both went inside, leaving him alone with Rickon. He wasn’t as good with him as Jon. He didn't know what to do with him half the time and he often let the troubles of the world interfere and keep him from his duty to him. Had always allowed the others to fill in for him, in that regard. He was ashamed of himself, but he was the head of this family and he’d step up and be the rock Rickon needed. It wasn't too late yet.

 

“Alright, little man, I’m gonna tell you what happened, but I need you to keep ahold of yourself. It’s alright to cry. But don't start gettin’ loud and yellin', Bran’s still sleepin’.”

 

Rickon nodded and sniffled. “Somebody hurt em, didn't they?”

 

“Yeah.” He placed a kiss on his mop of curls. “Someone did. Hurt Gendry real bad. Arya, too. But we’ve got em home, to keep em safe. We’re gonna protect em while they get better. And they will get better.”

 

Rickon shook his head, still sniffling. “Why they wanna hurt us, Robb?”

 

A more complicated question couldn’t have been asked. Leave it to a six-year-old. “Sometimes, people do bad things and we don’t get to know why,” he told him, squeezing him tighter. He rocked them for a few minutes, gathering up the courage to break the other news to him. There would never be a good time for it though. “We been talkin’ and we think it might be a good idea for you and Bran to go spend some time with Sansa.”

 

Rickon sat up, scowling at him, the tracks of his tears shining against his pale, freckled face. “I ain’t goin’,” he quarreled.

 

Robb bit back a curse at his stubbornness. He was so much like Jon and Arya it hurt. He was barely containing his frustration and anger as it was, but he certainly didn’t want to take it out on Rickon. He was just little and didn’t understand the danger. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I know you don't want to, and I don’t want ya to go either. None of us do.”

 

“Then don’t make me.”

 

Robb closed his eyes and pulled Rickon back into a hug. “Like I said, we’re just talkin’ ‘bout it. Nothin’s been decided for sure.”

 

He heard leaves rustling and looked up to see Ghost and Greywind come out of the woods and make their way to Arya’s house. Three wolves watching over them made him feel a bit better, took an ounce of the weight off his shoulders.

 

“You’ll go to school with Miss Dany tomorrow, Jon’ll take ya and pick ya up. Don’t say nothin’ bout what happened to Arya and Gendry to any of your friends, alright?”

 

He nodded. “Alright. I promise.”

 

“Good boy,” he said as he leaned his head against the back of the chair and kept rocking. “Now, why were you outta bed?”

 

“I went to Jon’s room, but he weren't there and no one was in your room neither. And Mister Bronn was gone...I just went lookin’.”

 

“Don’t do that anymore. Scared the lot a us.”

 

He nodded his little head as Margaery and Dany came back out onto the porch, Dany with the laundry basket balanced on her hip and Margaery with a tray of food. They stopped, looking at the little boy, obvious to anyone they loved him dearly.

 

“You alright?” Margaery asked him.

 

Rickon nodded. “Yep,” he said with a yawn. “I’m gonna stay here with Robb.”

 

He rested his cheek against the top of Rickon’s head. “We’re fine,” he told them softly. They walked down the steps and made their way to the other house.

 

*~*

 

He and Margaery sped toward Highgarden, hoping Olenna could provide some help. When they'd left, Jon was sitting on the front porch of the main house with Bran while Arya and Gendry slept. Bronn was sleeping too, since he’d stayed up all night, again, with his gun across his lap and his pipe in his mouth.

 

As they pulled up, the door was already opened, Olenna coming outside to greet them. Her expression was somber. She must have heard. “Your sister? How is she?”

 

“Let’s talk inside,” he suggested and they entered the house, Olenna leading them into the parlor. Willas was already seated, the look of concern on his face didn’t disappear even as Margaery dropped a kiss on his cheek. Robb didn’t sit, finding he had too much energy and anger to really be still. Loras, Garlan, and Mace all joined them, each embracing Margaery and shaking Robb’s hand.

 

Olenna waved them all away as she sat in a chair. “Well?”

 

“Arya and Gendry are alive,” he told her. “Gendry was beaten beyond recognition. Joffrey cut Arya's clothes off… they…” He couldn’t get the rest out. “They're alive.”

 

Mace looked at Margaery. “Perhaps you should come stay here until this calms down.”

 

Margaery shook her head and patted her father’s hand. “No. I’m helping care for them while they’re injured. I won’t be leaving. We’ll be sending the boys to stay with Sansa, though. And Dany has received a letter saying her people are on the way, but that’s still a few days off.”

 

Olenna tilted her head. “So what do you need?”

 

“Help,” Robb said with a sigh. “We’ll figure out how to pay you back later, but we need help. Someone to sit and guard my family and your granddaughter. We don’t know how or when, but we know they’ll come again and we don’t have enough people to go after them first...we just need some defense until Dany’s people get here.”

 

“I’ll do it,” Loras offered. Olenna sat forward and shook her head. “Don’t shake your head ‘no’ at me, Grandmother. Margaery’s my sister and I can defend her if I want.”

 

Garlan stood. “Count me in, as well.”

 

“I can sit in a chair and aim a gun,” Willas said.

 

Olenna rolled her eyes. “Willas, you will not go. I need to make sure one of my grandsons survives to carry on the family name if these two idiots are going to offer their services,” she said as she stood. “I’ll see about hiring some more hands to help. I’m sure Tywin has already sent out word to gather more to his side.” She looked at Loras and Garlan. “You two should pack your bags. There's no telling how long you’ll have to stay there. I’ll also see about getting you more supplies, food and the like.”

 

Robb lowered his head. “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me, yet. You haven’t won this. In fact, from my estimation, you’re losing.”

 

Robb took a deep breath, staring the older woman in the eyes. “I’m done losin’. We’ll...we’ll win this, but I know it’s gonna get bad. If somethin’ happens to me, I need your assurance that you’ll help take care of my little brothers, Margaery, and our child.”

 

His wife was on her feet then, anger lighting her pretty blue eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to you!”

 

He didn’t turn away from Olenna, and she finally nodded. “I’ll do as you ask.”

 

He closed his eyes, feeling Margaery’s grip on his arm tighten.

 

*~*

 

“I told ya, I’m fine. You can leave,” Arya’s voice, cold and cruel wafted through the house.

 

Margaery came from their bedroom and he could see she was near tears but she gave him a small smile anyway. She leaned up and kissed his cheek as she carried a tray of empty dishes to the sink. “Gendry managed to eat the soup with some help. That’s good news, right?”

 

“You alright?” he whispered.

 

She nodded and waved it off. “My emotions are all over the place,” she said softly. “I’m heading back to the house. You going to be here for a while?”

 

He nodded. “Yeah. Loras and Garlan were looking for you. Said something about you had to flip the coin to see which one stayed up tonight.”

 

She chuckled. “Loras thinks I’m good luck for him when it comes to coin flipping.”

 

“Alright, I’ll see you later,” he said, pressing a kiss to her wet cheek.

 

She left the house and he knocked on the bedroom door before opening it slowly. Arya was sitting up in a chair staring at a snoring Gendry. “Wanna get out of this room for a minute?” he asked her.

 

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to leave him,” she answered, her voice soft and far away.

 

Robb leaned against the door frame, taking her in, fighting against the urge to scold her. It was a losing battle. “You’re gonna stop.”

 

She looked up at him, a scowl on her face. “Stop what?”

 

“You’re gonna stop treatin’ Margaery like she wronged ya. She didn’t.” Arya rolled her eyes. “Hey, I was the one who got a broken heart.”

 

“And I was the one who found ya in the woods drunk outta your mind the day she married Joffrey,” she sassed. “Sorry, if I ain’t willin’ to forgive that easy.”

 

“You were mean to her long ‘fore that ever happened and you know it. She’s tryin’ to help ya.”

 

“Maybe I’d rather not have her help.”

 

“Oh? Ya want me, Jon, or Bronn ta change your bandages? Cook your own meals? Get back to washin’ your own clothes?” Arya folded her arms over her chest and looked down at her feet. “I know you feel like you got reasons to dislike her, but she’s tryin’ real hard to be helpful and even nice ta ya, not that you deserve nice after what I just heard.”

 

She sniffed. “She always acted like she was better than us.”

 

Robb shook his head and frowned. “That was you lookin’ for something ta dislike. She never acted that way. Do you think she would’ve married me if she thought that?”

 

“She didn’t marry you first, did she?” she sniped.

 

He huffed, throwing his hands out. “So what penance does she owe? How does she not catch hell from ya every time she does somethin’?” he whispered harshly. “Is there anythin’?”

 

“There’s more important shit in this world, Robb, than whether or not Margaery likes how I treat her.”

 

“How would you feel if I treated Gendry the same? She’s my wife. The mother of my child. And you’re nasty to her cause she lets you be. I’m tellin’ ya, it’s enough. She married ‘nother man, and she paid for it. But she’s here, she’s my wife, your sister by marriage. She’s been part a’ this family since before Bran was born. I’m tired of ya bein’ hateful.”

 

Arya lowered her head, covering her face with her hands and let out a muffled cry. Guilt washed over him, his heart breaking. “I’m so-so angry, Robb,” she hissed and raised her eyes back to Gendry. “I been takin’ it out on her cause I can’t get my hands on the people who hurt him. I want em all dead. I want em to hurt. _I_ want to be the one that kills em.” She wiped at her eyes furiously and he crossed the room and knelt in front of her. Her tear-stricken face tore at his insides. “I want all of the world to suffer until my husband don’t,” she breathed.

 

Robb took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. “I know you do, we all want them to suffer for what they've done to you, and they will. Somehow, someway, they will. But Margaery cares ‘bout both a’ ya. She wouldn’t be runnin’ herself ragged if she didn’t. She’s one a us. You’re always talkin’ ‘bout the pack and how we’re stronger together. Don’t it mean somethin’ that her family is willin’ to sit up at night and protect us? Don’t it mean somethin’ that she’s endurin’ your hatefulness toward her with nothin’ but a smile?” He brushed his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tears. “I’m so thankful you’re alright, and that Gendry will be, but don’t push away the people tryin’ to help ya,” he whispered.

 

“He’s right,” came Gendry’s raspy voice from the bed. They both looked over at him, he had his head turned their way. Arya stood from the chair and moved to sit beside him on the bed. “Cut Margaery a break. They’d kill her just as soon as they’d kill us. That makes us all family,” he whispered, reaching for her hand.

 

“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” Robb apologized.

 

“Ya didn’t. Took too deep a breath and lit my chest on fire,” he breathed. “How’s everybody else?”

 

He sighed. “Jon’s a damn mess, but Dany seems to be holdin’ him together. Boys are fuckin’ terrified.”

 

“So’s my wife,” Gendry said and Arya squeezed his hands. “Her being scared comes out different.” He was quiet for a moment as she hung her head. Gendry looked back up at him through his swollen eyes. “How’re you?”

 

“Livin’.”

 

He smiled, then winced, his breath catching. It hurt to look at him. “Got any good gossip?”

 

Robb chuckled and even Arya smiled. “Well, depends on what ya want...”

 

“Come on,” he grumbled. “The good shit. Ya know, the preacher messin’ with someone’s wife. That kinda stuff.”

 

Arya huffed. “I think we’re out of the gossip loop.”

 

“Long as we ain’t gotta go see Mel, I’m alright with that,” he said to which Arya smiled and looked at Robb.

 

“Leave us alone for a while.”

 

Robb nodded. “Alright. Y’all behave.”

 

“She won’t,” Gendry said with a wave of his fingers.

 

*~*

 

Margaery was seated at her vanity when he came into their room. She had her head propped on her hand as she twirled one of her hair pins between her fingers. He stood behind her and gently put his hands on her shoulders. Her blue eyes met his in the mirror.

 

“To bed with ya,” he said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

 

She sighed, pulling the ribbon from her hair and stood in front of him, quiet as she wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her head on his shoulder. He laid his cheek against her hair and it took only a second to realize she was crying. “You alright?”

 

She shook her head and looked up at him. “Feelin’ guilty,” she whispered.

 

“Guilty ‘bout what?”

 

“Arya and Gendry.” She blew out a breath, scowling. “I’m a horrible person, Robb, because I find myself thinking about how glad I am that it wasn’t you and me.”

 

He took a deep breath and cupped her face. “That don’t make ya a horrible person.”

 

“Yes, it does! How can I think such a horrible thing?”

 

“Cause you’re human. I don’t wish what happened to em on anyone. But I feel the same way. I’m glad it wasn’t you, but I wish it hadn’t been them.”

 

She moved out of his arms, pulling off her robe. “I’ve been changing their bandages, Robb. Every time I look at the wounds it nearly makes me sick. Gendry...bless him. I don’t know how either of them are coping because I know I’d be a wreck. I _am_ a wreck and it's not even me.”

 

Robb watched as she paced the length of the room, tying herself in knots. He stepped in front of her and took her hands. “They’re copin’ cause they have to, just like we all are. Gendry ain’t gonna let Arya hide inside herself. He’s always been good about bringin’ her around. And she won’t stand for him beatin’ himself up over it. In fact, when I left, he was crackin’ jokes.” He gave her a small smile. “They’re both strong in mind and body. They’re gonna be the ones to show us how ta be like them.”

 

Margaery sat on the edge of the bed, chewing on her lip. She had such worry in her eyes it had him fearing she’d leave. He survived losing her once, he didn’t know if he could do it again. She took his hand and pulled him to sit beside her. “We need to talk about the boys.”

 

Robb nodded. “I know. They can’t stay here.”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t want their lives disrupted, but we have to send them away. We don’t know when the next horrible thing is going to happen but we can’t risk it happening while they’re here.”

 

Robb wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against his. “I know. You and I can ride out to Sansa's tomorrow and talk to em if you want.”

 

Margaery nodded. “Garlan and Loras will be here. Bronn, too. They can watch over the place.”

 

He smiled. “Your brothers are good people.”

 

“So are yours. So are you,” she whispered and placed a kiss on his jaw.

 

He heaved a sigh. “My brothers are. Sometimes wonder ‘bout me.”

 

“I never wonder about you, Robb. I know all of you and I think you’re damn near perfect.”

 

He scoffed. “What’s more attractive: my criminal scheme to make moonshine or our near poverty level of livin’?”

 

She slapped him gently on the thigh. “You and Jon saved your family. Yes, it was hard for a while there, but you both did what you had to do to take care of them. You love your family. You love me. And all of us love you.” Margaery turned his face to look at her. “You’ve been the rock holding this family together for a long time,” she said taking his hand in hers and putting it over her belly. “You’ve already shown me that you’ll be an outstanding father. I just need you to see it, too.”

 

He smiled down at her and placed a kiss on her lips. “I think you just earned a foot rub.”

 

She grinned, it was sad, but it was there. “You always know just what to say.” She turned and sat against the headboard, propping her feet in his lap.

 

He took her foot in his hand, running his thumb along the arch. She groaned and laid her head back, her eyes closed in bliss. “Promise me somethin’,” he said.

 

Margaery opened her eyes and smiled slowly. “Anything if you keep doing that.”

 

“Stop lettin’ Arya walk all over ya.”

 

Her smile disappeared and she hung her head a bit, letting out a weary sigh. “Robb… you don't… It’s hard, alright? I don’t want her to be any more hostile than she already is and I’m afraid if I fight back it will make it worse.”

 

He shook his head. “Arya does it to ya cause ya let her. Don’t let her. Yeah, she’s hurt, but she doesn’t have to be hateful to the person who’s there tendin’ to them, so don’t let her. You ain’t done nothing ta deserve that.”

 

She sat up and took his hand in hers and nodded. “Alright. I won’t take it anymore.”

 

“Good. Now sit back and relax.”

 

She propped his pillow behind her back as well as her own and Robb got lost in the silence as he rubbed over her feet.

 

*~*

 

He and Margaery looked up at the grand house. Grey shutters against grey stone, wrap around porch complete with a swing, all surrounded by old oaks. It was something else. There was even a pond in the back with a dock and plenty of space for a youngin’ to play in. Rickon might fight them about leaving, but Robb felt he’d probably be alright with it once he saw it.

 

He helped Margaery out of the car and before they could get all the way up the stairs, the double doors opened and Sansa exited, fear etched on her face. “What is it? What’s happened?”

 

Robb embraced her and Dickon appeared from a room off to the side, wearing the same concern on his face his wife was. Talla joined them, hovering nervously behind Dickon. Robb hadn't seen her since Sansa's wedding, she'd grown. Dickon ushered both of them inside and Robb removed his hat.

 

Sansa turned to Talla. “Talla, I don’t know if you remember my brother, Robb? And this is his wife, Margaery.”

 

Talla gave them both a smile and a little curtsy.

 

“Why don’t you run along to the kitchen,” Dickon told her, “see if lunch is nearly ready while Sansa and I talk to her brother?”

 

Talla rolled her eyes, obviously unhappy with being dismissed, but walked toward the opposite side of the house anyway. Dickon showed them into a plush living room, complete with comfortable couches and chairs surrounding a large hearth. Sansa sat beside Dickon and Margaery beside Robb.

 

“Tell me what’s happened,” Sansa asked. Her hands were shaking.

 

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “On a run a couple nights ago, Arya and Gendry were cornered by the County Sheriff’s deputy. Claimed it was for the shine. They're alive, but Gendry’s in a bad way. They beat em so bad you barely know it's him...” he heaved a sigh. Margaery’s hand ran over his back. “We got em home. Some of Margaery’s family’s there helpin’, standin’ guard.”

 

“Arya? Is she alright?”

 

He shook his head. “Banged up, but she’ll be alright physically. The rest, I don’t know. She don’t really talk to anyone but Gendry. I’m sure at some point she’ll open up to Jon, but she’s stickin’ to Gendry’s side. All I can tell ya is ya know how much she hates feelin’ helpless, how angry that makes her. She’s damn near ready to explode.”

 

Sansa bit her lip and looked at Dickon. “We should go see them.”

 

Robb nodded. “Ya can do that. But I came here cause we can’t keep Bran and Rickon there no more. Not til this dies down.”

 

Dickon furrowed his brow. “You got enough people to fight them if they show up on the mountain?”

 

Robb shook his head. “Right now? No. Dany’s called in some of her people from Boston. The Tyrell boys are standing guard, as we said. Olenna’s lookin’ for some more help.” He put his head in his hands for a moment then looked at his sister. “This is worse than we ever could’ve imagined, Sansa. Chances are...some a’ us ain’t gonna make it. Worst case, none a’ us do. They’re your brothers, an you ain’t gotta–”

 

Sansa moved from her seat on the sofa to the tea table in front of him and took his hands. “They’re my brothers. I’d do anything to protect em. You, too! I need y’all to be careful. I need you all to live,” she said, her chin trembling as she spoke. “Bran and Rickon can stay here. Dickon and I talked about it after the wedding. We’ll care for them. But only if you promise you’ll do everything you can to live.”

 

Robb nodded and pulled his sister into a hug. “I promise,” he whispered.

 

*~*

 

Dickon and Sansa had followed them back home, taking his truck to load Bran’s chair in. Margaery was helping his brother pack his things while Robb gathered his medicine. He heard the sound of Gendry’s truck pull over the hill and knew the real fight was about to start. The slamming of the screen door and the stomping of feet signaled the arrival of Rickon. He touched Margaery gently on the arm and she turned to follow him. “We’ll be right back,” he told Bran.

 

“I think I’m mostly done,” he replied. “Good luck.”

 

They found Rickon on the floor of his room laughing as Shaggydog licked his face. Robb walked in and the wolf backed away, sitting down, his tail swishing over the floor.

 

“Hey boy, you have a good day at school?” he asked, pulling Rickon into his arms.

 

“Yeah, it was good.”

 

He squeezed him and patted his back. Jon and Dany had joined them, both standing in the doorway beside Margaery. “Alright, little man, you’re about to hear some stuff you ain’t gonna like.”

 

Rickon looked around at them all and then at Robb, worry etched on his little face. He never wanted to see him look like that again. He shouldn’t be worried. He should be as happy and carefree as he was only moments before on the floor wrestling around with his wolf.

 

Robb took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his head. “Sansa’s here ta take you an’ Bran with her.” Rickon started to argue, but he cut him off. “Hold on and listen. We don’t know what’s comin’. We don’t know when either. Could be one a’ us here or all a’ us, but we all agree that _you_ can’t be here if or when it happens. We all love the two of you too much to make you...Ya just have ta know that we love you. More ‘an anythin’. And we have to make sure y’all are safe.”

 

“I don’t wanna go!” he shouted, kicking his feet.

 

Jon stepped forward then and crouched in front of Rickon and rubbed a hand over his curly head. His dark eyes pained by what was happening as much as anyone. “We don’t want you to. I wish you could stay here and keep sneakin’ into our bed at night. That I could keep drivin’ ya to school...but we can’t let ya stay. Not right now. It just ain't safe.”

 

Rickon had fat tears rolling down his scowling face as he climbed from Robb’s lap, pushed Jon out of the way and ran to Margaery. “Please don’t make me go! They’ll listen ta ya.”

 

Robb watched the woman he loved fight off a crying fit as she crouched down to his little brother's height. She pulled him into her arms and brushed down his hair. “I love you too much to let you stay, little love. My heart is breaking because I don’t want to part from you.”

 

“Then don’t,” he cried. “This is my house, too.”

 

Margaery pulled him back from her shoulder and cupped his face in her hands. “It will always be your house. We’ll always be your family. Nothing changes that. But we have to protect you and Bran, so your sister, the one you called Sasa for so long, is going to take care of you for just a little while. It’ll be like taking a trip. A fun one. She’s got a lot of land, a big lake–”

 

“I don’t care! This is my home!” He turned to his last hope who was looking at the floor and rushed to Dany, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Miss Storm, I can stay with you! Tell them! I can stay!”

 

Dany looked at the group and closed her eyes. It pained even Robb to see a tear roll down her cheek. She moved to her knees in front of him and took his little hands. “Do you remember that really horrible day with those bad men at the school?”

 

Rickon nodded. “You and Davos scared em off.”

 

“We did, but do you remember what I told you?”

 

“That bad things happen but we gotta dust ourselves off and get back up.”

 

She nodded, sniffing back tears before giving him a weak smile. “This is one of those times, little man. All of us _hate_ this. None of us want you to go, but you must. Even if you hate all of us forever, you have to go so you'll be safe,” she said softly, and Robb had to wipe at his own eyes. He knew it would be hard, but he didn’t know how hard.

 

They heard the creak of Bran’s chair and Dany moved out from in front of the door. “I need you to come with me, Rickon,” he told him. “I need someone to help take care of me. Sansa hasn’t done it in a long while and she’ll need you to help her remember what ta do.”

 

Rickon shook his head. “I don’t wanna go.”

 

Bran nodded. “I know. Neither do I. But we have to. Robb and Jon can’t do what they need to do if we’re here and they’re always worried ‘bout us.”

 

Robb stood and walked over to Rickon and turned him to face them. “I promise, on Pa’s grave, that as soon as we feel like it’s safe for ya, we’ll come get ya. Both of ya,” he swore. “Shaggydog and Summer are going with ya. So we need ya to be a big man and go with Sansa and Dickon.”

 

Rickon shook his head and Robb picked him up into his arms and held him for a minute while he sobbed, “My family always leaves me!”

 

Jon crossed the room to rub a hand over his back. “We ain’t leavin’ ya. And I make a promise right now. Miss Dany and I will come visit ya every Friday.”

 

“Maybe more than that,” Dany chimed in.

 

Margaery took a deep breath. “And Robb and I will visit every Sunday.”

 

Robb squeezed him tight and kissed his curly head. “Rickon, we need ya ta be strong for us, and I know we’re askin’ a lot, but we need ya to understand that we’re doin’ this cause we love you. None of us would ever make it if somethin’ was to happen to you or Bran. So, please, hop down and show Margaery what ya want to take with ya to Sansa’s, okay? Can ya do that?”

 

He sniffled, rubbing his eyes and Robb felt relief when he finally nodded. He put him back down and he walked over to Margaery and hugged her again. Dany left the room, the sound of her heels against the wood floors carrying to the front door. Jon was right behind her.

 

Bran gave him a nod and ruffled his hair, leaving Margaery to help Rickon get his things together as he pushed Bran to the front porch. Sansa was coming back from Arya’s, wiping her eyes as Dickon rubbed a hand over her back. Bronn ran forward and helped Robb get Bran down the steps.

 

“Where’s Rickon?” Sansa asked.

 

“Margaery’s helpin’ him get his things together. He’s...he might end up in your bed tonight.”

 

Sansa shook her head and hugged him. “I’ll take care of him.”

 

“I know. We love you.”

 

She pulled back and smiled. “I love you. All of you,” she whispered. She looked down at Bran. “Got your wittlin’ knife?”

 

Bran held it up. “Bronn gave me this one.”

 

“You’ll have a fellow wittler,” she said. “Dickon does that every night before he goes to bed.”

 

Dickon walked up, smiling at him. “Working on a special project for Sansa. Maybe you can help me.”

 

Bran shrugged. “Maybe.”

 

Sansa opened the door of the truck and Robb lifted Bran from his chair and put him onto the seat. “You take care of Rickon for us.”

 

Bran nodded. “I’ll try to keep him distracted.”

 

Robb got him settled, the blanket over his legs the way he liked. “I love you, little brother.”

 

Bran gave him a weak smile. “I know. I love you, too.”

 

He felt a tap on his shoulder and found Dany behind him. “A special delivery so you don’t get bored,” she said, giving Bran a watery smile as she handed him three thick books. “I hope you like them.”

 

Bran smiled as she leaned in and kissed his cheek, quickly walking away and wiping at her eyes. Jon reached in and gave him a hug. “Remember your medicine every day...”

 

“I’ll remember, and if I don’t, Sansa will.”

 

Jon kissed his forehead and stepped back, going over to Dany and pulling her into his arms. Robb tucked the blanket around Bran, not yet ready to let them go. The lump in his throat wouldn’t go away, and he knew it probably wouldn’t until they were back home where they belonged. Another tap hit his back and he turned to see Arya, propped on her crutch, staring at him with teary eyes. “My turn.”

 

He moved out of her way and Bran’s face fell as he saw their battered sister for the first time. She grasped his hand in hers and gave him a smile. “Hey, it could’ve been worse,” she said. “Gendry sends his love. He’s not up to walkin’ ‘round yet. I love you, little brother.”

 

“I love you, too,” he replied back, his voice so soft Robb could barely hear him.

 

“And don’t worry ‘bout us. Our pack is stronger every day.”

 

Bran nodded but turned his head as the screen door slammed. Rickon stood holding Margaery’s hand, a small suitcase in her other. He smiled when he saw Arya and rushed to her, but slowed at seeing her crutch.

 

Arya gave him a stern look. “None of that,” she said softly. “I’m alright. Gendry told me to tell you that when you come back, you and him are goin’ fishin’ and he bets you catch more with him than you did with Jon and Miss Dany.”

 

Rickon frowned. “Where’s he at?”  


“He wanted to come out...but it still hurts him a lot ta move. I told him to keep his head on the pillow or I’d poke him with my crutch.” Rickon hesitated for a minute, then hugged Arya around the waist. She brushed her fingers through his curly hair. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered.

 

“I’ll miss you, too.”

 

Sansa helped Arya away and the two sisters embraced. Everyone took their turn hugging Rickon, muttering love and adoration to the boy until they had all had their turn, every one of them fighting and failing to hold back their tears. Robb plopped him onto the seat as Jon put Summer and Shaggydog into the bed of the truck with Bran’s chair. “You two behave for Sansa and Dickon. And Rickon...don’t you go near that lake unless one of them is with you.”

 

Rickon rolled his eyes and nodded. “Fine. I won’t.”

 

He placed a last kiss on Rickon’s mop of curls, then turned to find Sansa waiting. He hugged her, tight, so thankful they had her to be a safe haven for the boys. “I can never repay what you’re doin’ for us.”

 

“We’re family. I’d do it a hundred times.” Robb helped her in and closed the door behind her once she had Rickon on her lap.

 

Dickon started up the truck and Margaery moved into his arms. Jon had his arms around Dany and Arya a few paces away. They all stood watching them drive off down the hill. Rickon turned and looked out the window, giving them all a wave. They all waved back. When the truck was finally out of sight, Margaery turned into his chest and sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Jon.


	23. Trouble Been Doggin' My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meetings with allies, new and old. Information comes to the mountain that is too good for the brother's to resist and they take a risk. Jon and Dany have their first real fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Yes, it's early posting, but dear lord, got stuff to do tonight and I didn't want to miss posting for you guys.
> 
> This gorgeous mood board was made by the lovely justwanderingneverlost. They continue to get better and better. She's my partner in crime and I don't know what I would do without her most of the time!
> 
>  
> 
> **CHARACTER DEATHS AND GUN VIOLENCE**

 

**CHARACTER DEATHS AND GUN VIOLENCE**

 

Trouble  
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble  
Trouble been doggin' my soul  
since the day I was born  
  
Worry  
Worry, worry, worry, worry  
Worry just will not seem to leave my mind alone  
Well I've been saved by a woman  
I've been saved by a woman  
I've been saved by a woman  
She won't let me go  
She won't let me go now  
She won't let me go  
She won't let me go now  
  
Trouble  
Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble  
Feels like every time I get back on my feet  
She come around and knock me down again  
  
Worry  
Oh, worry, worry, worry, worry  
Sometimes I swear it feels like  
this worry is my only friend  
Well I've been saved by a woman  
I've been saved by a woman  
I've been saved by a woman  
She won't let me go  
She won't let me go now  
She won't let me go  
She won't let me go now  
  
Oh, ah Oh  
She good to me now  
She give me love and affection  
She good to me now  
She give me love and affection  
I said I love her  
Yes I love her  
I said I love her  
I said I love  
She good to me now  
She's good to me  
She's good to me  
  
Trouble  
**Ray LaMontagne**

**JON**

 

“Ya sure ya wanna do this?” he asked, slowing as they came to the gates of Tyrion Lannister’s home. He liked the dwarf, always had, but even he was wary of what could happen. What if they arrived and Tywin was there? But his love nodded her head, determination set on her face.

They drove through the gates and Dany's breath caught. “They might have been waiting on Arya and Gendry around here to come out.”

He frowned. “To be honest, I don’t really wanna think ‘bout it.”

“I can’t do anything but think about it,” she whispered.

They pulled up to the house, thankfully finding the drive empty save for Tyrion's fancy Ford. Jon climbed out and walked around opening Dany’s door for her. She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and he escorted her to the front door knocking as soon as they reached it. They were greeted by an older woman with graying hair, wearing a crisply pressed apron. “Can I help you?”

“Jon Snow here to see Tyrion, please.”

“Jon Snow?” Tyrion appeared from the back of the house, stopping as soon as he spotted them. “ _And_ Miss Storm. Let them in Gertrude,” he said and ushered them inside the room he’d come out of. He closed the door behind them and gestured they follow him out the French doors and into his back garden, away from the house. “Pardon the secrecy, but I don’t exactly trust my servants not to listen at the door.” He took a seat on a low bench, nodding toward the small table and chairs across from him. Jon waited for Dany to take her seat then took the other. Tyrion eyed them both, a small smile lighting his face, it was a cautious one though. “I don’t believe in all the years we’ve known one another, Snow, that you’ve ever been here. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jon gave him a strained smile as Dany took a deep breath. “I'm afraid it's not pleasure,” she answered for him. They'd discussed it before arriving that she would do most of the talking, he was never good at it anyway. “Arya and Gendry were attacked shortly after leaving here the other night. They were run off the road by The Mountain. Joffrey, Meryn, Polliver, Ramsay, and Locke as well. All of which participated in beating and tormenting them.”

Tyrion’s face went from shock to horror during Dany's short tale, his skin gone pale and eyes wide. “Are they...are they alive?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

Jon swallowed the lump in his throat. “Aye. Gendry’s nearly unrecognizable and...Arya...”

Tyrion was on his feet then, stepping forward before catching himself. “Did they...?”

Dany shook her head. “No. Arya says they didn’t. But your nephew did cut _all_ of her clothes off and helped stomp her into the ground. _After_ making her watch them beat Gendry. Nymeria jumped in to protect her, but they kicked and stomped on her as well.”

She went quiet, as Tyrion began to pace the small patio, fists working at his sides and head shaking while he muttered to himself as if they weren't even there. She and Jon exchanged a lingering look and he gave her a nod, reluctantly. Dany cleared her throat, breaking Tyrion from his stewing. He turned to face them.

“The only two deliveries they made before the ambush were to Olenna, their first stop, then you,” she disclosed.

His eyebrows jumped into his curls. “I assure you, had I known _anything_ about it, I would have said something to them.” His green eyes landed on Jon, imploring. “I swear to you,” he vowed. Jon pressed his lips together and gave him a nod. He believed him. Tyrion was quiet for a moment, seeming to study the pattern of bricks beneath his feet. “Are they safe?”

“They’re home where we’ve got someone up at all hours watchin’.”

“What can I do?” he asked and Jon knew from the worry in his eyes that he truly did care what happened to them.

“We need information,” Dany said softly. “We’re looking to make sure that something like this doesn’t happen again.”

He eyed her speculatively. “Information regarding?”

“How many men are in your father’s employ? Joffrey was with them, so we believe that Tywin was the mastermind of that attack. He thought to send the Mountain to make it look legal. We just wanted to know how many we’re up against?”

He shook his head and frowned. “I don’t know exactly. Here in town, he has the mayor and the county sheriff in his pocket. A few other families. The Boltons, of course, the Freys, the Umbers, the Stokeworths...How many do you think that is, Snow?”

“The Freys alone,” Jon scowled, rubbing the back of his neck as he figured in his head, “if we’re talkin’ just the men. Twenty.” Dany looked over at him, eyes wide. He sighed. “Walder Frey is in his nineties and he keeps havin’ youngin's and they’re havin’ more. There’s a lot of em,” he explained.

Dany sat forward. “We don’t know that they’ll get involved, do we?”

Tyrion shook his head. “No. But, plan for contingencies,” he answered. “What else?”

“Is he plannin’ to attack us again?” Jon asked, hoping that Tyrion could give them a warning or something, _anything,_ to keep the tragedy that happened to Arya and Gendry from happening to anyone else he loved.

He looked away from Jon and out at the vast land behind his house. He scratched at his beard and scowled. “Not that I’ve been told. But he already called my association with your family disloyal. He would never make mention of it in front of me.”

“What about your brother?” Dany asked.

Tyrion heaved a sigh. “Probably not. Jaime elects to stay out of my father’s business to keep any of it from touching his children. It’s why Father had Ramsay and Locke punished. Jaime was furious about what happened to you at the schoolhouse and how it affected Myrcella.”

“Punished? When?” Jon asked, glancing at Dany. Shock was written all over her face. He certainly felt the same.

“A few days after the schoolhouse incident,” Tyrion told them. “Apparently they were given quite the beating for their misdeeds. They deserved much more.”

“He trashed your place after that, then,” Jon said, meeting Dany's eyes again, alarm bells ringing in his head. “So, not even Tywin can rein him in.”

Tyrion frowned, his bushy brows heavy over his eyes as he looked at Dany. “Trashed your place? When was this?”

“Just over a week ago now,” she answered, “They destroyed nearly everything inside they could. Furniture, dishes, all of my clothes.”

“But you weren’t there?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve been staying with Jon as much as I can.”

“You should look into making that a permanent situation as long as Ramsay is alive. If he attacked you after receiving a beating, _and_ a warning from my father...”

She folded her arms over her chest, looking less than thrilled to have another person tell her where she should live. Jon wished like hell she would listen to someone, even if it wasn't him. He wanted her with him all the time, to be able to protect her _and_ his family. But he wouldn’t force it on her, no matter how much his instincts told him to. Didn't stop them from screeching at him though, or leaving his nerves feeling more like live wires.

Tyrion heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his face. “I worry for you and Jon's family,” he continued. “My father isn’t above having people killed if it suits him. He’s proven that more than once.” He shook his head and eyed Jon. “First your father got dragged into all of it, now the rest of you.”

Jon went rigid as if he'd stepped up on a copperhead hissing and ready to strike. Anxiety slithered up his spine, along with that _ceaseless_ need to know, both threatening to turn his stomach inside out. “What d’you mean?”

Tyrion considered them. “You will have no recollection of us ever having this conversation” His stubby finger pointed at Jon, then Dany. “Either of you.” He turned away, looking out at the still lake and trees for a long moment. Jon was ready to jump up and shake the words out of him, but finally, he spoke. “Robert Baratheon found out very damaging and incriminating evidence against my father and his business dealings. But you know how Robert was. He was a cheating asshole and most of the town disliked him and no one took his word for anything, except your father. Robert tried to keep it secret, that he was going to Ned. Your father, being the upstanding citizen that he was, honorable, loyal...everyone loved him.”

He found himself at Tyrion's back without any recollection of moving. He felt weak and thin, the cool breeze that blew making its way into his bones with little effort. He trembled with the rustling leaves. The edges of his vision had gone out of focus, all the bushes, grass, and trees a blur of yellows and browns. All he knew was the icy grip of dread and the low rumble of Tyrion's words.

“Robert went to his old friend, gave the information to him. To let him be the one to show the world the truth. My sister...told my father what she did…” Tyrion turned, looking up at him, anguish etched into his face. “He had both of them killed.”

Jon released a choked groan. Much like the sound he’d made standing in a field in France, his boots sunk deep into the muck, looking down at the garish sight of shrapnel jutting out of his chest, his uniform blooming warm and red. His knees gave way and he dropped to the ground in a low crouch, hands over his face, smothering a roar. He'd known it. Just as Robb did. Gendry. But actually hearing the words...

Tyrion's deep breath reached him through the din of blood rushing through his ears. “I’m sorry, Jon. I am so very sorry.”

A small and gentle hand ran up his back, another pulled his away from his face and cupped his cheek. He was brought back to the surface by sea-green eyes filled with tears and a brow pressed to his. “I know,” she whispered.

Even in the midst of his internal chaos, he knew she did. Knew he wasn't alone, that he had an anchor to cling to that would still be there when the storm had passed.

They stayed that way for how long he didn't know, until Tyrion cleared his throat, pulling them from their bubble of shared sorrow. Jon looked up at him. Shame was written all over the smaller man’s face. Tyrion hated what his father was and what he had done. But not as much as Jon did. He stood, helping Dany up, and stepped away from both of them, rage boiling through his veins. He wanted to beat something. Kill someone. Make them suffer. That person could be Tyrion, but it wouldn't be. He was at least a decent human, someone who gave a shit about other people. Tywin and his cronies though, they were monsters right down to their black souls, and Jon was determined to see them all dead.

He paced a bit, clenching and unclenching his fists to expel some of the fury. Facing Tyrion once he felt calm enough, he swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Thank you. For telling me.”

Tyrion shook his head, eyes on the ground. “I should have told you years ago. But...well, fear makes us all do things we wish we wouldn’t.”

“Can you keep our conversation to yourself?” Dany asked him. She'd gone hard, her softness turned sharp, revenge simmering blue and bright in her eyes.

“What conversation?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m sure if you don’t trust your housekeeper, she’s reporting to someone. He'll be told we were here and ask what we discussed.”

Tyrion didn't ruffle under her scrutiny, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips and eyes instead. “Ah, yes. You came to tell me there would be no more deliveries, much to my horrid disappointment. That Gendry and Arya and the rest of you want to keep to yourselves on the mountain. In no way did you question me about my father, his business dealings, nor did I tell you about how my father had your father killed.” He tilted his head. “It was a nasty conversation full of things I disliked.”

Jon narrowed his eyes at him, scoffing. “And you think Tywin will buy that?”

“He won’t kill his own son unless he feels I’ve betrayed him. He already knows you were making deliveries to me. Why shouldn’t he buy it?”

Dany slid her hand into Jon’s and tugged him toward the house. Tyrion trotted after them. “You two will try to keep me updated on what’s happening, won’t you?”

Jon turned back, grateful Tyrion seemed to at least have a conscious. “We won’t come for any more visits. Don’t want to put you in jeopardy. But if you wanted information, you could always visit the general store in town.”

Tyrion grinned. “I do find that I need a few things around the house every now and then.”

He gave a nod and followed Tyrion to a side gate that led back to his driveway. He opened it for them and waved them through. “Please take care, Jon. Miss Storm.”

“Sorry we won’t be deliverin’ to you anymore,” Jon said as he stepped past.

“Given the circumstances I understand. Be careful,” he said with a nod, shutting the gate behind them.

Jon helped Dany into the car before getting in himself, his chaotic thoughts spinning him in dangerous directions. His hands shook as he went to grip the steering wheel, everything losing focus again, a high-pitched ringing filling his ears. His door snapped open and a hand nudged his shoulder. He looked up startled to see Dany standing there. She pointed at her empty seat and he did as she requested, sliding over and letting her behind the wheel. He'd run them off a mountain in the state he was in no doubt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, wiping his sweaty palms down his britches legs as she started the car.

She shook her head and took his hand in hers, bringing it to her lips. “Don’t apologize, I know.”

Jon nodded and let her have her hand back. She pulled down the driveway and got them on the road, headed toward town. He stared out the window, letting the blur of the passing roadside soothe him as much as it could. “I always knew. Robb, Gendry, Arya...we all knew they wouldn’t kill each other.”

Dany took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “But having it confirmed is something else.”

He pulled his lips between his teeth and nodded again. Ran his hand over his face. “I want to kill em all. I wanna take my brother and Bronn and go find em. Kill every last fuckin’ one of em.”

Jon saw the fear that washed over her, even from the corner of his eye. He didn't want to see it full on, not then. He didn't want anything to dampen his burning rage.

Dany had other ideas, reaching over and gripping his arm. “But you won’t. Not until my people get here. You have to promise me, Jon.”

He scowled, twisting his head around in frustration, tugging to free himself from the invisible pull she had over him. “Don’t make me. Please don’t make me promise, right now. I don't know that I can.”

“I need you to,” she said softly, her voice cracking, but adamant. “I need you to promise me you’ll wait.” He stared at his clenched fists and she shook his arm until he drug his eyes back to her. “Please,” she begged, blue eyes glistening with tears.

The shrapnel was back in his chest again, lodged in his heart this time, piercing through the thick wall of hatred he'd built up. He pried her hand from his arm and took it in his own, squeezing it. He forced himself into her shoes, to see things from her side. Losing him could break her. She'd survived the loss of her whole family, but he didn’t know if she could lose anyone else and still remain standing. He wouldn’t be her downfall. Couldn’t leave her alone, and wouldn’t. He nodded, finally, and kissed the back of her hand, pushing the words past his throat. “I promise.”

She visibly sagged in relief and he felt the weight of it sit heavy around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered and released his hand to shift gears.

His thwarted revenge had his mind scrambling for a new path. He told her to drive past the road home. He’d thought of someone they needed to visit, someone who likely hated Lannister as much as he did.

*~*

They pulled up to the new house with its wide wrap-around porch and pristine white columns. Oberyn was lounging in a rocker, newspaper open in his hands. His dark brow lifted in interest and he folded up his paper, dropping it on a table beside him. He rose to his feet gracefully as a cat and strolled to the steps, waiting.

Jon climbed out of the car and walked around, opening Dany's door for her. She took his hand, then tucked hers in the crook of his arm allowing him to escort her up Oberyn's walkway. There was a gleam in the Mexican’s eye as he looked over Dany. It made Jon's chafed nerves ripple in irritation.

“Jon Snow. I don’t remember the last time we saw one another? Has it been a year?”

Jon nodded remembering all too well watching Oberyn piss Gendry off by flirting with Arya right in front of him in town one day. Arya paid it no mind, but it was everything Jon could do to get Gendry to take his hand off his gun. “It has. Sorry for comin’ unannounced, but we were wonderin’ if we could talk to you about the Lannisters.”

A flash of anger flared on Oberyn's face, black eyes narrowed to slits, his lip twitching. “What about them?”

“They’ve hurt Arya and Gendry.”

He straightened his posture at that, coming forward a bit. “Is the Senorita alright? And her husband?”

“She’s better than Gendry,” Dany answered.

His dark eyes once more moved to Dany and a smirk formed on his face. “Forgive me, Senorita, but I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Oberyn Martell, this is Miss Dany Storm. She’s the schoolteacher in town, and my...lady.”

Dany gave Jon a smile and turned back to Oberyn who had descended the stairs. He stopped in front of her, taking her hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Miss Storm. You are exactly the interesting article this town has needed.”

Jon was ready to put him on the ground but Dany slipped her hand from the smooth-talking Spaniard's. He brought his own hand up to the small of her back and she looked at him with an indulgent smile. “I appreciate the interest, Mister Martell, but I am certainly taken,” she said, turning back to Oberyn.

He cast a look at Jon, eyeing him up and down, and shrugged. “The more the merrier.”

Jon did everything he could not to react, but he could tell by the smirk on Oberyn’s face he’d failed.

Dany didn’t seem phased by the insinuation in the least. “We actually have a purpose here other than you making my lover uncomfortable,” she said.

Oberyn’s eyes narrowed on her, still grinning. “But it’s such fun.”

Dany sniffed and huffed out a delicate breath. “As we said, the Lannisters have hurt Arya and Gendry. Both were beaten pretty badly… Gendry got the worst of it. Tywin and his lackeys are still a threat. They’ll keep coming after Jon's family and he tells me you dislike them as much as we do.”

“Dislike? Quite an understatement,” he responded, all signs of his teasing nature gone, replaced by a smoldering savagery. “We were told that if we came to this country we could live like kings. Everyone was welcome.” He made a derisive noise. “Not true if you’re trying to buy a piece of paradise that Tywin Lannister wants. He found out I was in the process of purchasing some land. It was all done save for signing the paperwork. The little fucker who owned the property sold it to Tywin out from under me. By threat of death, I later learned. That would have been enough to earn my wrath, but he went much further.”

Jon almost held a hand up to stop him from telling the rest, not to save them from hearing it, but to keep Oberyn from having to relive it. But the fire burning in the man's eyes kept him still, and quiet.

“My sweet sister Elia was beyond happy,” he went on in a whisper, “could not wait for us to begin building our new home. The day I went to sign the papers she had gone to the property, wanting to find just the right spot to put the house. I don't know if they were waiting, or if they followed her, but Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch found her.” Oberyn was no longer looking at them, but through them, his nightmare flickering across his face, horror dancing in his dark eyes. “I came back from the bank, no deed in hand, only for Ellaria to tell me Elia hadn't returned. I drove there, hunted for nearly an hour before I heard her.” He turned away, eyeing the beautiful view just past his front yard. His hands worked, fisting and unfisting. “They'd beaten her, raped her, left her for dead stuffed under some bushes like garbage. I took her to the hospital. She held on a few hours, they had caved in the side of her skull. Their names were her last words.”

“I am so very sorry for your loss, we know well the monsters they are,” Dany said gently.

Jon wondered for just a moment if she wouldn't spill her secrets, but Oberyn spoke again, stopping any chance she had.

“Trespassing they said. She had trespassed onto private property, refused to leave, and fought them when they tried to remove her. They both had bruises, bites, scratches, proof she was resisting the law. My sister suffered and died by their hands and they walk free, all on Lannister's orders.”

“How would you like to get a bit of revenge?”

“What do you know about Mexicans, Senorita?”

“Charming, volatile tempers, understand a grudge...”

He nodded, his smile dark. “It’s as if you know me.”

“So, can the Starks count on your help?” Jon asked.

Oberyn looked at him, eyes weighing him before turning back to Dany. “If it's the type of help I believe you're referring to, yes. Will give me another chance at seeing your Senorita as well, huh?”

Dany rolled her eyes. “You really should stop flirting with me. Jon's blood is simmering close to a boil these days. He may decide to bite.”

Oberyn gave them a bright smile. “Oh? That doesn't sound so horrible a thing to experience.”

Jon's face heated, more from embarrassment or ire he wasn't sure. His blood was swimming with a heady mixture of both. He cleared his throat. “Check in with Tormund in town. He’ll be able to give you information the quickest.”

Oberyn sneered as if he'd smelled something foul. “I hate town. Full of uninteresting people. Not like you, or your lady.”

Dany looped her arm through Jon’s. “But think of how many people you can make uncomfortable with just a smile.”

He tilted his head, grinning at her. “You do make an excellent point. Very well, I will check in with that wild fellow who owns the store. I do look forward to seeing you again. And you, Snow.”

Jon nodded and walked Dany back to the car. “Thank you,” he said softly, opening the driver’s door for her. He was more than happy to let her drive. The visit with Oberyn had unsettled him in a completely different way than their visit with Tyrion had. As they pulled away, Dany began laughing softly. Only laughing harder as he looked at her confused.

“What the hell’s got ya laughin’ like that?”

She managed to get herself under control. “Oh, my sweet Jon Snow. Making you blush is so fun even people who don’t know you well find entertainment in it.”

Jon rolled his eyes and looked out the window, feeling his cheeks redden again. “You know, he propositioned us both.”

She chuckled. “Yes, he did.”

He cut her a look. “You don’t find that insultin’?”

“I would have found it _more_ insulting if he hadn’t thought to include you,” she said. He wrinkled his nose at that and she laughed again, sliding a hand over his thigh. “Don’t worry, my love. I don’t share with anyone. You’re mine. I’m yours. No smooth talking Spaniard will change that.”

He took her hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of it. “How come you find all a’ this so funny?”

She shrugged. “I’m used to it. Big cities expose you to different types of people. When you’re in speakeasies all the time, you encounter an assortment of proclivities you normally wouldn’t.”

He huffed. “So, this isn’t new to you?”

She shook her head. “No. But watching your reaction to it was certainly enjoyable.”

“I’m glad I can provide you with a laugh.”

She looked over at him, squeezing his thigh. “I’ll compensate you for your troubles later.”

Jon decided he wanted to enjoy stirring her up as much as she did him. He moved over in the seat, grinning. “We could just go to your house, be alone for a while,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her ear.

Dany hummed but shook her head. “We can’t. Robb was going to head in for a nap when we got back, remember? Loras and Garlan have to go to Highgarden...”

He heaved out a weary sigh. “I remember. Home then.”

“How about we have a bath together later. We seem to get a lot done in a bathroom,” she reminded him, her nails scratching through his beard.

He pressed his lips to her neck, breathing her in, letting her warmth and sweet scent soothe him. “I love you, Dany.”

She turned her cheek into his and shifted gears. “I love you, too, Jon Snow.”

*~*

He was rocking on the porch, Robb beside him, shotguns laying across their laps. Both had offered to do the dishes for Margaery and Dany since they’d cooked, but the ladies had pushed them outside to let Bronn come in and eat and get some sleep.

“It’s gettin’ colder. Bet we get snow soon,” Robb said, taking a deep breath. “The air’s changin’.”

Jon only had a chance to nod before they heard a car coming up the mountain. They both sat forward, gripping their guns tighter. Davos and Sam were already at Arya and Gendry’s and Loras and Garlan said they’d be back near six. Robb checked his watch but didn’t stand which made Jon think it was near time for them to come back.

But the car that appeared over the hill wasn’t Garlan’s. It was Tormund, the Hound in the passenger seat.

He and Robb stood, shotguns still in their hands as the car pulled into the yard. The men got out, Sandor grabbing a large duffle bag from the back seat.

“Tormund,” Jon nodded in greeting. “Sandor.”

Clegane grunted. “Right. I’m gonna set up in the barn.”

Robb furrowed his brow. “Set up for what?”

“Ta sleep,” he answered as if Robb was the dumbest person he’d ever met. Jon looked at his brother who was looking at him, both in the dark. Sandor rolled his eyes. “I heard what happened to your sister and that boy she married. I like the little wolf girl. Since my brother was involved and I wanna kill him more than I wanna breathe, I figured the best chance a’ me doin’ that would be if I was here ready for em to come fuck with ya, again.”

Garlan and Loras pulled over the mountain and tucked the truck on the side of the house back toward the woods. Both men came around to the front, carrying two crates each full of food. “Grandmother sent this,” Loras said, walking passed Tormund and Sandor and into the house.

Robb took a deep breath and looked at Jon. “Alright. You take care of him and I’ll help em get all the food sorted.”

Jon nodded and lead their new arrivals to the barn. Tormund caught up with him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “So, there’s a reason, Jon Snow, that I brought the Hound up here. We got a bit a information for ya,” he said, keeping his voice down.

“Oh yeah?” Jon asked, his curiosity peaked. He opened the barn doors to reveal Gendry’s truck sitting in the middle. “What kind a’ information?”

Tormund took a deep breath. “Well, Davos has been pokin’ ‘round, askin’ if people saw anythin’ at your girl’s house the weekend it was ransacked. Ramsay’s dog, Locke, came into my store yesterday, bought a bunch of supplies. He told that fucker, Polliver, they was goin’ out to Bolton's huntin’ cabin for a few days ta lay low til Davos stops or he’s made to stop,” he said ominously.

Jon narrowed his eyes at Tormund and folded his arms over his chest. All the rage he'd been stuffing down was rising dangerously, putting ideas in his head. “Where’s this huntin’ cabin? He tell ya that?”

“I wasn’t in the store. Brienne was. They didn’t know I was in the backroom listenin’,” Tormund answered, “and they don’t think much a’ women. She’d kill em all. Shows how stupid they are.” He took a deep breath, seemingly calming himself from the affront to his wife. “I don’t know where it's at. But he does,” he said, hooking his thumb at Sandor.

The Hound came out of one of the stalls after having discarded his pack. “I went huntin’ there a few times as a boy with my Pa and my fucker of a brother. I know where it is. Just on the other side a’ the ridge from my place.”

“How many?” Jon asked.

“Three’s all we ‘spect,” Tormund answered. “Might be more. Don’t know for sure.”

Jon hung his head and glanced back toward the house. Dany would kill him if he went off on a hunting spree. He’d promised her, more than once. Earlier that damn day even. But, he might not get another chance like this, to pick Ramsay off while he was unaware. He had to, to keep her safe, to get some justice for Arya and Gendry. He'd just have to beg and plead for forgiveness later. “Let me tell Robb so he can cover for me.”

Tormund nodded. “I’ll wait and take ya.”

“Ya don’t have ta do that.”

“How long we known each other, Jon Snow?”

“Too fuckin’ long,” he said with a smirk. Tormund winked. “Fine, I'll be back in a few.”

Jon went back to the house, going inside and grabbing his thick black coat. He caught Robb coming out of the bathroom and nodded toward the back door, his finger held to his lips. He drug him out in the yard, staying out of sight of the windows. “Tormund says Ramsay and Locke are hidin’ out,” he whispered, “and Sandor knows where. We're goin’. I'm done waitin’. They need to die. Be three less we have to deal with later.”

Robb’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll go with ya,” he said, turning back toward the house.

He grabbed a handful of his shirt, bringing him back around. “No, ya ain’t. I need you ta stay here and distract Dany for as long as ya can.”

Robb shoved his hand off. “The hell with that, Jon! Arya’s my sister, too!” he hissed. “I’m fuckin’ goin’ or I’m tellin’ Dany you are.”

Jon let out a snarl and smacked his shoulder hard. “Are we fuckin’ five years old again? Calm down and think a minute, dammit.”

“I don't need to calm down or think it over. I'm goin’,” he bit out, teeth clenched.

Jon straightened, his own teeth threatening to crack. “And you say I'm the stubborn one.” They had a silent stare off, Jon even considering knocking him out and leaving him behind. There wasn't time to stand around and argue. Knowing he'd never win he brushed by him and back toward the house. “Have it your way. Let’s get this done.”

He stopped by the kitchen and found Dany at the sink filling up the kettle. He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and made a noise of surprise. “Goodness you're cold.”

“Robb thinks snow’s comin’ soon.”

She turned in his arms and covered his cheeks with her warm hands. “I’ve got some grading to do. Don’t stay out so long that I can’t get you warm later.”

He pressed his lips to hers, savoring the feel of her soft and loving in his arms. The guilt threatened to eat him whole. He shoved it down and pulled away, forcing a smile on his face. “I love you, Dany.”

She gave him a curious look, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. “I love you, too.”

He kissed her once more and let her go as Robb came from the back with his arm around Margaery. “I’ll come inside, later,” his brother said and placed a kiss on his wife's temple.

Margaery grinned. “I’ll keep the bed warm for you.”

“Thanks, darlin’.” He gave her smile and exited the house. Jon followed him with one last glance at Dany.

Robb already had his finger to his lips and was ushering Loras and Garlan off the porch and over to Tormund's car. “We’re goin’ after Ramsay, Locke, and Polliver. We need ya to cover for us,” he whispered to them.

Loras scowled. “Going where?”

“They’re at Roose’s huntin’ cabin. I’m takin’ em,” Tormund offered.

“Y’all sure this is the best idea? Maybe we should all go,” Loras suggested.

Robb shook his head. “We need ya here watchin’ over em. Tywin has a lot more men than those three.”

Loras nodded, reluctantly, and glanced at the house. “I take it they don’t know anything about this.”

Jon shook his head. “No, and they don’t _need_ ta know.”

Garlan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Be quick about it. Don’t like lying to her. She’ll probably see right through it. And that lady of yours will too,” he added, pointing at Jon.

Loras grabbed Robb's arm. “Be smart. If there’s more than the three of them, come back.”

Both nodding, he and Robb climbed into the back of Tormund’s car, Sandor getting in the front. As Tormund took off, he could feel Robb's gaze boring into his skull. “Feels too familiar to be ridin’ off ta kill somebody.”

Jon shook his head and pulled his pistol out. “That was a faceless enemy. We know these fuckers.”

Robb grunted. “They’ll die just the same.”

*~*

The moldy scent of rot tickled his nose, dank and heavy as it settled in his head making it ache. His whole body ached. The night air was damp and chill, the soft, wet earth beneath him having soaked through his clothes and into his joints. He checked his gun for the fifteenth time–all the bullets were still there–and fought against the tremors, his body fiercely protesting the elements and strain he was subjecting it to.

They'd arrived at Sandor's just as the sun had set and trekked up to the top of the ridge. Half an hour later and down the other side, they reached a creek, the property line between Clegane and Bolton. They dug their hands into the freezing banks, taking out clumps of black mud and smearing it on their faces. Tormund tamed his fiery hair with it as well. The moon was out, bright and nearly full, they couldn't take any chances.

From there they stuck to the deer trails as much as possible, less leaves to rustle and crunch through. No one spoke. Jon's own mind was a tangle of thorns–vengeance, guilt, and fear, snagging and tearing at him. He figured the others were no better off.

At the first sight of light shining through the trees, they dropped to the ground and began the slow, agonizing crawl to reach shooting range.

They sent Sandor around the back. Tormund was crouched behind a small rise to the left of the cabin’s front door. He and Robb covered the center and right, flat to the ground, still as stones, watching the men inside the cabin move around.

He flexed his fingers around the grip of his pistol while his blood coursed through his veins at a rapid pace, pounding in his ears, making him sweat despite the cold. He tried in vain to control his breathing, his shaking hands, and trembling muscles, as the all too familiar anxiety of impending battle washed through him. Staring down the barrel of his gun had him thrown back into a foxhole, dreading the danger that lurked above if you dared a look.

“I only count three,” Tormund hissed. He and Robb both nodded. “How do we get the fuckers out?”

Whether a miracle or pure luck, the door opened then and Polliver walked out. “Hang on dammit! I’m gettin’ it!” he called over his shoulder back into the cabin.

Locke followed behind him and leaned against the porch post, lighting a cigarette. He took a pull and blew out a cloud of smoke. “I swear, boy, if you had brains you’d be fuckin’ dangerous.”

Jon cut his eyes to Tormund, he had his gun trained on Polliver. A glance over his right shoulder showed Robb aiming at Locke. He settled himself deeper in the ground and lined his sights up with the front door, head high, and waited for the man who had been tormenting the woman he loved to walk through it, rage and vengeance drowning his nerves with a dark calm.

He didn't have to wait long, Ramsay showed himself not thirty seconds later, propping up in the doorway. “What’s takin’ so long?”  

“I’m tryin’ to find it,” Polliver hollered, his head buried inside the car, then he straightened, holding a piece of clothing up in his hand. “Joffrey gave it to me since I kept a hold to–” Tormund fired and Polliver hit the ground like a child's toy discarded.

Locke and Ramsay immediately drew their guns, waving them left and right, shooting into the darkness. Bullets whizzed past Jon, cracking and popping as a few found their mark in the trees surrounding them. Robb's gun went off beside him. Locke stumbled toward the ground screaming, clutching at his knee. Robb shot again and Locke was thrown back, the bullet striking him square in the chest.

Ramsay was still firing, now with much better aim, Robb's muzzle flashes having given him a target.

Jon raised his gun and held his breath, pointed the sights at the bastard’s temple and squeezed the trigger. Ramsay's head snapped back, blood spraying. He dropped like a felled tree through the front door and into the cabin.

The sudden silence was deafening. Jon watched and waited, barely breathing until Sandor appeared out of the darkness beside him, Tormund lurking at his back. “Let’s go,” he grunted, holding his hand out. “Someone's bound to come snoopin’ after all that gunfire.”

Jon took his hand and nearly lost his footing as he jerked him to his feet. Tormund grabbed his arm to steady him, frowning at Sandor. “Shouldn’t we check to make sure they’re dead?”

Robb joined them. “Two head shots and one in the chest?”

“If you’re alright with that...” Tormund wondered, looking at him.

Jon turned back to their targets, none of them had moved an inch, nor made a sound. He took a few steps forward, squinting through the dim light, focusing on Ramsay's chest. _No rising or falling_. Satisfied the bastard was well and truly dead, he went back to the others and nodded. “I’m alright.”

“Me too,” Robb agreed.

Neither Sandor nor Tormund argued, following him and Robb back the way they'd come, silent and tense, each of them jumping and aiming their guns at every little noise they heard.

They made it back to the creek soon enough and stopped to wash the mud off their faces. His brother crouched beside him. “Did you see what that bastard had?”

Jon tried not to fixate on it. The three of them were dead. He couldn’t do anything more to dead men. “Aye, Arya’s dress.”

“We should’ve torched the place.”

“Let em lay there and rot.” He stood and followed Sandor back up the bank.

  


*~*

  


Tormund crested the top of the hill, cutting the engine so they could coast quietly into the yard. Jon knew it was a fool's hope to expect the house to be dark and silent, but he found himself looking anyway. The lamp was on in the living room window, sending out a warm glow, the kitchen light doing the same through the front door. Loras and Garlan were black silhouettes, standing on the porch. He sat back in his seat, closing his eyes. Robb let loose a heavy sigh beside him. Both knew their nights were far from over.

They came to a stop and a breath later the Hound grunted humorously. “Glad I ain't you two.”

“Shit,” Robb groaned, opening his door, “this ain't gonna be fun.”

Jon glanced out the windshield again and his heart sunk. Loras and Garlan had disappeared, replaced by Dany and Marg, both standing on the porch, shawls wrapped around them, arms crossed. Margaery was crying, the light caught the tear tracks running down her cheeks, but Dany had walked to the steps leaving her face covered in shadow. Jon could only guess at how she was feeling. None of his guesses were good.

He'd just had a shootout with some of the worse men known, could’ve easily died, but forcing himself out of the car to face her was ten times as nerve-wracking. There was nothing for it though.

He opened his door. “Don't worry, my friend, you're comin’ home the hero,” Tormund whispered over his shoulder at him. “She might be fired up, but the fuckin's always better when they're feisty.”

Jon rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw as Tormund started up the engine again. He took the long way around the car to get to her. Margaery already had Robb in her arms, whispering harshly, then she shoved him, spun around and stormed into the house. Robb, of course, was right on her heels. The Hound had wandered toward the barn and Tormund was already headed down the mountain. He was on his own, strung as tight as a barbwire fence, having felt the heat of her eyes on him from the moment he got out of the car.

He took a step toward her. “Dany–”

She walked down the steps and his heart lodged in his throat, cutting off his air, but she went right past him. Never said a word, nor spared him a glance as she kept going, the barn her apparent destination. Strode past the Hound as if he wasn't there either. Jon followed her, feeling about as miserable and cold as he ever had.

“I guess I’ll just fuck off, then!” Sandor hollered at his back.

Jon ignored him and kept on going. He'd known this fight was coming, had dreaded it more than actually going after Ramsay and Locke. Not even the peace of mind he had now that they were dead had eased the worry boiling in his gut, he knew he was walking into a firestorm.

Yes, he'd put his life on the line, killed a man to keep her safe, but he’d never regret it, not for a single moment, no matter how long he lived. She could be mad all she wanted, but she'd never have to know the horror of having that bastard's hands on her. And that settled the ruckus in his mind, pushed away the guilt and second guesses that had been gnawing at him from the moment he'd made his decision. He'd done the right thing, she'd never convince him otherwise.

He closed the door behind them, hoping to at least keep the cold wind off of her. With just her thin dress and shawl on she had to be freezing. But as he watched her pace, a tiny ball of fire–fists clenched, cheeks flushed pink, her usually flawless hair a beautiful mess around her face–he huffed to himself, realizing she probably wasn’t. Her anger was no doubt keeping her plenty warm.

He realized something else as well; she was the most glorious thing he'd ever seen and he suddenly felt very, very alive, his blood pumping a shocking riot through his veins. The sight of her tugged on the hook she’d embedded in his heart months ago. The twist of pain and pleasure exquisite. He wanted to feel it forever.

He stepped in front of her, bringing her fuming up short. “Lass, I know you're mad,” he tried, keeping his voice soft. There was no sense in provoking her.

Her eyebrows shot to the rafters. _“Mad?”_ she echoed. “I'm not mad, Jon, I'm _furious_. And don't call me that,” she bit out, teeth clenched so tight he worried she'd crack them, “you don't get to call me that.”

Dropping his head he held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’m–”

“No!” she cut over him, “You don't get to talk either. _I do._ You don't get to talk for a very long time.” She spun away, stalking across the dirt, her little feet kicking up dust. “You lied to me,” she spit over her shoulder.

He shook his head. “No–”

She shot him a deathly glare and he decided maybe he didn't need to keep digging a hole. As it was he was in so deep he didn't know if he'd ever get out.

“You _did_ lie. You promised me, Jon. Promised me you wouldn't go after them. You laid there in _my_ bed, holding me in your arms and _swore_ to me you wouldn't.”

“I meant it then.”

“Oh, you meant it _then_? And what about when we left Tyrion's? Mmmm? Didn't mean it then, did you?” She’d stopped her storming about and was facing him now, but just out of his reach, arms crossed over her chest, eyes flashing with fury.

“Yes, I did, but…” He released a harsh sigh. He'd never meant to break his promises, and he hated himself for ruining her trust, but... “Dany, I had to go. He was gonna come for you, we both know that,” he told her calmly. “He meant to rape you, probably kill you, and if you think for one second I was gonna stand by and let him… When I had a chance to kill him, to keep him from ever gettin’ near you again...”

She rushed toward him, flinging her arms out. “I don't care, Jon! I don't care if you had a hundred chances, you _promised_ me you wouldn't!” she yelled, landing a hard slap across his chest, then another before she turned away again, a strangled cry of rage leaving her. She stopped, curling into herself, head down, face in her hand. “Do you have any idea how I felt knowing where you went? Pacing your room terrified you weren't coming back to me alive,” she asked, her voice gone quiet and small. It was a knife in his gut.

Because he _did_ have an idea. The last nightmare he’d had was still vivid in his mind along with the gentle way she'd soothed him after… He moved to close the space between them and pull her into his arms, scrambling for the words he needed to make things better, but she spun on him again, her fire raging once more.

“You've never lost everyone you ever loved all at once, Jon,” she hissed, poking him in the chest. “You don't know! You don't know what it feels like to have your soul ripped out and to be left all alone. You never would've left me if you knew.” Another stinging slap hit his chest. “You could've died!”

He took her by the arms, gentle as he could against her struggling. “But I didn't, Dany,” he assured her softly, ducking his head and catching her eyes. “ _He_ did.”

That fact didn't seem to matter to her, her beautiful eyes filled with angry tears as she fought against his hold. “You left me. You left me here with no way to know,” she choked out.

Fuck, she was breaking his heart. “I did, and I'm sorry I scared ya, I am, but...I'd do it again. I’d give up everything,” he shook her bit, “every last breath I got, Dany, if it kept you safe,” he swore. “And maybe I gotta live with you never forgivin’ me for it, but at least I know you never gotta know that pain again.”

She flung her arms up, knocking him away. “You can’t spare me from pain, Jon! Pain is part of living! It’s a part I was all too familiar with until I met you! You'd taken it all away, then you went and did something so _stupid–_ ”

“It wasn’t stupid! Those bastards hurt Arya and Gendry. They threatened you, not once, but three or four times,” he hissed, his hackles rising. He knew she was hurt, that he'd scared the shit out of her, but he'd done right. “I eliminated a threat to my family, _and_ the woman I love. When it comes to that, I don’t care how mad at me ya get. Keep hittin’ me, slap me. Hate me. But I did what needed to be done and I’d do it again.”

She threw her head back, growling in frustration. “You’re not listening to me!”

“And you ain't listenin’ to me. Robb and I did the right thing. Had more an’ enough reasons to do what we did.”

“Right. All about you and what _you_ feel, what _you_ needed,” she sassed. “And don’t you dare act like you did this for me. You did this because you wanted to. You can try to use me as an excuse but I’m not going to let you.”

It was his turn to roar in frustration. She was infuriating. “Damnit, Dany! I _did_ do it for you, for you and my sister!”

“Fine, Jon, _fine_ , but you don’t seem to realize the grief Margaery and I suffered, tonight. The fear we felt that one or both of you might not come back. You did, but what if you hadn't? What about the pain we would've suffered then? _That_ pain is not the kind that goes away. And did either of you think what would've happened to the rest of us after, if you hadn't come back?” She flung her arm out, pointing at the barn door. “Or what's to keep Tywin from coming up this mountain when he finds out?” she hissed. “There was a lot more to consider than your need for revenge.”

Something rose up and took him then, maybe it was his wolf's blood, or just his resentment at the injustice of it all, whatever it was he let it reign. “Like _your_ need for revenge?”

Her eyes blazed. “You don’t get to say anything to me about that,” she seethed.

“ _Don’t I?_ ” he questioned. “You want these people dead as much as I do. Is your anger really at me or that I didn’t include you?” He was probably pushing her too far, but dammit, she was pushing him too.

“Oh, my anger is firmly on you! What happens if they drive up here tomorrow, Jon? My people aren’t here, yet. Do you really think your family, the Tyrells, and the Hound are going to be enough to fight them off? If they show up, most of us will die. Arya and Gendry. Me. Marg and her baby. Did either of you think of that?” She shook her head, snarling at him. “You took a risk that didn’t need to be taken.”

“Like you ain't done the same!” he snapped. “I just about had to drag you up here kickin’ and screamin’ to keep you from stayin’ down there to face him alone. And you won't quit teachin’, keep insistin’ you can handle it all by yourself.”

She deflated a bit at that but still stood all defiant and prickly while she stared at the ground. “What I do, or don't do, doesn't change what you _did_.”

He blew out an exasperated sigh. “Maybe it don't. But we got three fewer people to come at us, now.”

She folded her arms over her chest and turned away from him. He rubbed a hand down his face, not knowing what else to say but the simple truth. “You can dislike what I did, but that don’t make it wrong. Ramsay, Locke, and Polliver helped assault my sister and nearly killed my brother-in-law. Ramsay has been a threat to you since the moment you met him. Now he's dead and gone. All three of em are, and I _won’t_ apologize for that.”

She folded in on herself again and he heard her breath catch, saw her shoulders tremble. Feeling like the world’s biggest ass, he took a tentative step closer, reaching out and running a hand down her arm, but she jerked around and shoved him in the chest, fat tears streaming down her face. “You nearly cost me the most important thing in my life, you idiot! I love you! You don’t get to take risks like this!” she cried, shoving him again. “You don’t get to do things that could take you from me!” She tried to hit him, but he caught her wrists. “You don’t get to leave me!”

He pulled her against him, but she pushed him away letting out an angry sob. He didn't let her get far, grabbing her up again and holding her tight to his chest, her sobs a dull knife carving his heart out. “I came back, Dany. I wouldn't have left if I didn't think I'd make it back to you. I'm here, and I ain't leavin’ you again.”  

“I'm so mad at you, Jon,” she gasped, fisting his shirt in her hands and jerking on him.

He took her beautiful face in his hands, staring into her heartbroken eyes, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “I know and I'm sorry, but I still love you,” he breathed, crushing his lips against hers.

She whimpered, turning away from him and nothing had ever hurt more, but a split second later she was on him again, hands grasping his hair, mouth attacking his. She climbed him and he helped, gathering her up, nowhere near able to get her close enough even with her wrapped around him. He swallowed down her mewls as they kissed each other like people possessed, their teeth clashing, and lips bruising, neither able to get the upper hand.

Somehow he got them into one of the old stalls, fumbling to get the door closed behind them. If anyone came looking for them, she'd get to keep some of her dignity. He peeled her off of him long enough to shed his coat, all while she scowled fiercely, mouth and hands refusing to be separated from him. He got it around her shoulders and picked her up again, pushing her up against the wall, drinking from her succulent mouth as her legs locked back around him. Nails dragging across his scalp, her hips grinding into his, his cock was so hard and throbbing between them he felt dizzy with the blood loss. Her whines and whimpers only adding to the strain. He was going to spill like some green boy if he didn't distract himself.

Keeping her pinned with his hips, he tore at the front of her dress, popping the buttons, opening it down to her navel, as he kissed and nipped his way down her neck. She threw her head back, gasping, either from smacking the wall, or his attentions, he didn't know. His blood was boiling too hot to think straight as her hips continued their torment, bucking hard when he yanked her brassiere down and caught a hardened peak in his mouth.

He sucked and pulled at the pebbled flesh, then switched to the other until he wondered if she would fall over the edge then and there, her response was so eager. Desperate cries, grasping hands, and her gorgeous body writhing against his. But he didn't want her to finish yet. He wanted to taste it when she did, to lap up her mess, to feel her tender flesh swollen and trembling around his fingers as she lost herself. So he unwrapped her ankles from around his back and held her steady as he dropped to his knees and ran his hands up her thighs.

Dany knew his intent and willingly helped him achieve it, panting as she wiggled herself free of her drawers while he pulled them down. She stepped out of them, bunching her dress tail up and moving it out of his way, baring herself to him. A feral growl ripped from his throat as her scent hit him and he grabbed her under one knee, hiking it over his shoulder, opening her wide, the sight of her glistening cunt all pink and wet nearly his downfall.

She cried out when he took his first taste, swiping from cleft to clit. His every muscle clenched and shuddered at her tangy sweetness. A peach on the verge of ripe. Greedy, he went back for more, tongue dipping into soft spaces, lapping at the excess, dragging up swollen folds, first one side then the other, before taking a mouthful of her, gently sucking on the plump and slickened flesh.

“Jon. Oh... God, Jon… More,” she gasped, her grip on his hair painful.

He didn't care, she wanted more and so did he. There was no point to taking it slow, or drawing it out, both of them were already clinging to the edge of sanity. He sealed his mouth around her clit, lashing at it with his tongue as he slipped two fingers through her silken skin. Soaked as she was they slid inside her with ease, her walls yielding, clasping and clutching at them as he pushed and pulled.

She was right there. Her hands pressing his mouth tighter to her, hips strained forward, body bowed from the wall, thighs trembling. She had her head thrown back, her full lips–puffy and bruised from their violent kisses–open in a silent cry. He let her teeter on the brink for only a moment, then hooked his fingers and tugged in short, rapid strokes.

A long, strangled cry left her, wild and shameless, her cunt and thighs a trembling vice around him as she spilled over the edge. He didn't let up, tormenting her with fingers and tongue, wanting to push her beyond, to erase the anguish that created their frenzy. He drank her down as if he could absorb all her pain and anger, wishing, _hoping_ he could banish it forever from her mind.

Her convulsing and keening seemed to last for an age, but she finally reached her breaking point and pushed him away. He sat back and wiped at his face, catching his breath as he watched her do the same, wrecked and undone on rickety legs, pert breasts heaving, skin flushed pink. Pride and awe-filled him, he'd done that to her, turned her into the most alluring sight he'd never seen.

Suddenly she spun around, managing to keep his coat between her and the rough planks of the stall. She pressed her face into it, still breathing hard. He was confused for a moment, thinking maybe she was just resting, or more likely she was refusing him. Denying him any more pleasure after the torment he'd put her through. No doubt he deserved it. But then she hiked her dress up over her shapely ass, putting herself on display for him once more.

He stood, dumbfounded, head swimming. His balls tightened, aching terribly as his cock surged against its confines. He actually swayed on his feet, the sight of her almost too much. They'd never, not really. He'd taken her from behind only once, but left her on her side, able to easily roll away if she wanted. She hadn't said and he hadn't asked, but he somehow knew. Knew her husband had used her in that fashion, taken her power from her. It was something he never wanted to remind her of, let alone do to her. That she was offering herself this way, after being so angry with him…

Jon didn't know what to do. Lust and love warred within him, quickly building to a raging storm. He wanted her with an all-consuming ferocity, wanted to take her, claim her, but his heart had him faltering.

“Jon, what are you doing?” she panted, reaching for him.

He stepped up to her, bracing his hands beside her head, leaning in, placing soft kisses over her face. “Are you sure, lass? We haven't–”

“Yes, I'm sure,” she gasped, pressing her ass back against him and rubbing over his cock. “Fuck me, Jon. Now. Hurry.”

He didn't have to be told twice. Ripping his shirt open to keep it out of their way, he dropped his britches and shorts. The air was a freezing splash of ice water against his exposed flesh, but as he pressed himself over her, all he felt was heat. Her hot skin melting into his, sending a fever deep into his bones. She whimpered and writhed, spreading her liquid fire over his cock and he squeezed his eyes closed fearing he'd spill if he dared to look. He groaned instead, placing one hand against the wall to keep himself upright–he truly didn't trust his legs to hold him–and took his cock in hand.

She gasped as he slipped through her folds, then cried out as he found the home in one driving snap of his hips. A sound he didn't know he was capable of ripped from his chest and he shuddered against her, his knees giving. She was a velvet snare made of flame, so hot and tight and wet he hoped she never released him. He would die a happy man, in an old dusty barn, the night a cold blanket around them, trapped within the woman he loved, her body fused to his, letting her drain him till there was nothing left but a dried up husk.

She moved, impatient with his stalling, walls rippling and pulling at him as her moans slid down his spine, sparking him from his stupor. He drove deeper, then retreated, shivering against the staggering pleasure, hanging onto his control by the thinnest of threads. But he had to wait, he wouldn't fall without her falling first.

Wrapping his fingers around her hip to ground himself, he thrust into her again, and again, and again, her cries driving him harder and faster each time. He looked down and nearly went blind watching himself disappear into her welcoming cunt, over and over, the lewd wet sounds spinning him tighter.

Then she was pressing herself back, grinding against his thrusts, the very depths of her circling, squeezing the head of his cock. He could feel her fingers brushing against him. She was bringing herself along. His world started to spin, the pressure building at the base of his spine spreading out dangerously. She gripped his hair, holding him in place, her breath a hot rush against his ear. “Never again, Jon. You'll never... leave me again,” she hissed, her breath catching at each of his thrusts.

“Never,” he grunted, and she seized, cunt quivering and grasping as she cried his out name.

He let go–couldn't have held on a moment longer if he tried–pinned her tight against the wall, hips driving forward as he spilled, eyes rolling back, a blissful black death taking him.

It spit him out again sometime later, gasping for air, his muscles shuddering back to life, but it was the small trembling body pressed to his and the quiet catches of breath that cleared the stars from his head and brought him crashing back down to earth.

He eased his weight off of her but kept her held close, pressing his face into her neck, kissing her soft skin. “Please don't cry,” he begged, “I'm so sorry, Dany. Please don't.”

She sniffled, and struggled a bit, shoving an elbow into his ribs. He let her go, slipping free, his guilt and broken heart nearly drowning him. He couldn't look at her, only the ground, as he hastily dressed. He was scrambling for something to say, or do, anything to take away her hurt when she stepped up and leaned into him, hiding her face against his chest.

He startled, relief flooding him, but recovered quick, wrapping her in his arms. “Dany, I'm–”

“Jon, just shut up and hold me,” she muttered.

He did as he was told, but took her over to the wall and sat down, pulling her into his lap and covering her with his coat.

And there they sat, for who knows how long, until the warmth and release of their frenzy seeped from his bones and into the cold hard ground. Her quiet sniffling had long since stopped. He had a hand in her hair, fingers massaging her scalp while she played with the buttons on his shirt, slipping beneath every so often to trace a scar.

A thousand words fought to free themselves from behind his teeth, but he kept them there, refusing to voice them no matter how much he wanted to. She'd ordered silence. That's what he'd give her, however long she asked it. He was hers to do with as she wanted till his dying day.

She shivered and he pulled her closer, tucking his coat tighter around her and rubbed her arm. She nuzzled into his neck and her cool lips kissed his pulse. “Thank you.”

He froze, swearing he must’ve imagined it, his mind filling his head with what he wanted to hear. But then she sat up and cupped his cheek. Her eyes shone blue and gold, the lantern light reflecting in the beautiful watery depths.

She ran her thumb across his cheekbone and licked her lips. “Thank you. For protecting me, for risking your life, your family's, for me.” Her throat worked and she closed her eyes a moment. A tear escaped. She breathed deep, long lashes lifting, eyes meeting his again. “I will never not love you for it. But if you ever scare me like that again, I'll never forgive you.”

He shook his head. “I won–”

She pressed her finger over his lips. “Don't promise, just don't do it.”

He nodded and she kissed him. He gently held her there, giving her his whole heart as best he could, praying it was enough to fill the cracks he left behind in hers.

  


*~*

He watched, half listening as Davos filed away papers and talked about his wife and sons. His mind was mostly on Dany, back in her cozy house where he'd left her half an hour before.

They'd been to the river that afternoon, back to where they started. Both needing to release some of the crushing tension and relish in the slice of peace they had, now that her stalking shadow was no longer. They'd fished a bit and eventually ate the supper she'd packed for them. But only after they had devoured one another first, quilts and clothes kept close against the chill of the air above and cold ground beneath.

She'd forgiven him, for the most part, too relieved he was still alive and by her side to stay mad long. It certainly helped that so far news of their hunting spree hadn't seemed to make it past the small cabin deep in the woods. He still felt guilty for scaring her so badly and had done all he could to keep a smile on her face the last two or three days. Catered to her every need to the point she was shoving him off and out from underfoot.

That was how he'd found himself sitting in Davos’ office, killing time. She'd ordered him out, begging for some time to actually do her job. He'd promised to be quiet and stay out of her way–still not feeling good about leaving her by herself–but she'd insisted, declaring even sitting still and quiet he was too much of a distraction for her. She brought her gun and knife from their hiding places, promising to keep them well within reach, and indulged his need to check all the window and door locks, before pushing him out onto the porch and locking the door behind him. He’d almost decided to just sit in the car and wait, but she'd glared at him through the front window until he relented and left. An hour was all she'd asked for. That was half gone. He didn't like it, but he'd wait out the rest.

He shifted in his chair, the rickety wood cracking and popping, blaringly loud within the small block building.

Davos eyed him but kept on with his work and mundane chatter. Jon was relieved his old friend seemed none the wiser about the three men lying dead in the woods. He tried not to think about what would happen once he knew. Lock him up, no doubt, along with Robb and Tormund. It was doubtful he would have a choice. They would be hauled into court and found guilty, sentenced to hang. He could already feel the noose around his neck, the worry strangling him, rough and prickly.

It had been discussed amongst them all going back and hiding the bodies, but Bronn said the risk of being seen was too much. They'd gotten out once unnoticed, chances were they wouldn't a second time.

Bronn had reacted much the same as Dany and Marg. Took them out to the barn for a scolding like he was their Pa, furious they hadn't told him their _foolish_ _fuckin’_ plan. He even smacked Robb upside the head at one point and shoved Jon against the wall, snarling in his face another. They took their punishment, listening to him rant and rave for what felt like hours, doing their best to stay calm and plead their case rationally. Bronn's steam eventually ran out and he admitted he was glad they were down three enemies even if the way they went about ridding themselves of them was dim-witted.

But Arya’s reaction unsettled him almost as much as Dany's had. He and Robb had gone to them the next morning, hoping they at least would have a more grateful reaction. Gendry had lamented not being with them but figured he'd get a chance at some of the others before the end. He was thankful they'd whittled down the enemy. Arya though had stormed out the door, hobbling into the yard. He caught up to her quick only to get hit. She'd been furious, yelling at him, calling them idiots and a dozen other names. It took him a long while to calm her down, but even then she never relented. Finally refusing to speak to him, shoving Robb out of the house and slamming the door in their faces. She'd yet to come around.

Everyone on the mountain was torn between relief and fear, leaving them all as skittish and short-tempered as feral cats, waiting to see what form Tywin's retaliation would take. Days had passed without so much as a whisper. It was nerve-racking.

“I’m headin’ off in a few to pick up Tarly, take him to your place,” Davos said, pulling him from his thoughts. “How’s everybody?”

“Scared. Don’t know what’s gonna happen, just feel like somethin’ is.”

He nodded his head. “You and Miss Storm weatherin’ all this alright?”

“We are.” He grinned a little. “Ain't had the time, nor the means to, with everythin’ goin’ on, but if we make it through all a’ this, I'm gonna make her mine proper.”

Davos gave him a smile. “Good for you, lad. Ya deserve it.” The smile left his face, though, eyes dropping to his papers. “Maybe you should head on back to her. You’ll have to forgive me for sayin’ so, but it ain't smart to leave her alone with Ramsay still roamin’ round.”

Jon's heart tripped up, muscles locking down tight. “We heard he left town,” he lied, thankful Davos wasn’t looking at him.

His old friend shook his head, clicking his tongue and tapping his fingers on his desk. “If only we were so lucky. Saw him just this mornin’.”

He shot to his feet, his chair screeching across the floor. His blood was turning to ice in his veins. “You sure it was Ramsay?”

Davos scowled at him, tilting his head. “Course I am. Know what that boy looks like good as you. Passed him on the sidewalk, tipped my hat to him, tryin’ to be polite but the little fucker didn’t give me the same courtesy. Just stared at me with those beady eyes a’ his.”

“Come with me, now!”

“Jon! What the devil's gotten into you?” he hollered at his back.

He was already at the door, ripping it open. He reeled back, his nose assaulted by the acrid smell of smoke. His eyes darted to the sky and his heart dropped to his feet. The orange glow of a fire was lighting the night, right over where the school and Dany's house sat.

“Dany!”


	24. Buy Yourself Another Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's finally a reckoning between Dany and Ramsay. Through the ashes, though, hope is found. 
> 
>  
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, ATTEMPTED RAPE, CHARACTER DEATH**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and Happy Holidays. 
> 
> The gorgeous Mood Board(s) are provided by the wonderful justwanderingneverlost. She worked her ass off on this chapter. I mean, the way our system works is that I write the bones of the chapter, get all the happenings, and a lot of the dialogue written, and then she goes in and fleshes it out in a way I couldn't even fathom. She's amazing and one of my best friends and I'm so glad I have the opportunity to write this story with her. We're already working on more ideas of what we could write together in the future. 
> 
> This was a hard chapter to write and I can't imagine it will be easy to read. We hope that you enjoy it as much as you can. As usual, a summary of the traumatic events that happen at the beginning will be summarized in the endnotes.

****  
TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, ATTEMPTED RAPE, CHARACTER DEATH  


**TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, ATTEMPTED RAPE, CHARACTER DEATH**

**DANY**

****

__ Run, run, run away   
Buy yourself another day   
A cold wind's whispering secrets in your ear   
So low only you can hear   
Run, run, run and hide  
  
Somewhere no one else can find  
__ Tall trees bend and lean pointing where to go   
Where you will still be all alone   
Don't you fret, my dear   
It'll all be over soon   
I'll be waiting here for you  
  
__ Run fast as you can   
No one has to understand   
Fly high across the sky  
_from here to kingdom come_  
__ Fall back down to where you're from  
  
__ Don't you fret, my dear   
It'll all be over soon   
I'll be waiting here for you   
For you, for you   
Don't you fret, my dear (don't you fret, my dear)   
It'll all be over soon (it'll all be over soon)   
I'll be waiting here  
  
__ Don't you fret, my dear   
Oh, it'll be over soon   
I'll be waiting here for you   
For you, for you (run, run, run away)   
(Run, run, run away)  
  
__ Kingdom Come  
T he Civil Wars

 

_ **TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, ATTEMPTED RAPE, CHARACTER DEATH** _

 

She tapped her pen on the table looking over Lommy's spelling test. He’d improved quite a bit over the last few months. She crossed out the two wrong answers, put the grade at the top, marked it in her book, and moved to the next. 

_ _

The house was quiet and warm, giving a facade of peace. She’d sent Jon away until later that evening under the guise of needing to get some uninterrupted grading done. Truth was, she could've worked with him there, but she desperately needed some time alone to process all that had happened in the last few days. Of course, she couldn't tell him that, he'd worry too much and stay even more underfoot than he already was. No, losing herself in her work was the perfect opportunity to decompress,  _ and _ keep him placated. 

_ _

The horror of the last few days was something she was all too familiar with. The haunted look on her mother’s face would never leave her, nor the dead, empty eyes of her father. But seeing Arya and Gendry in the state they’d been in, were still in, caused her just as much pain. Just as much fear. 

_ _

Arya, for as long as she’d known her–and to hear everyone else talk of her–was a fighter through and through. She would never go down without taking someone with her. And Gendry was a formidable force in hairy situations no matter how soft and sweet he was with Arya. The events at the town social sprung to mind and how quick he had appeared at Jon’s side and put Locke on the ground. Seeing two strong people beaten as badly as they were rattled her.

_ _

And their sweet boys. Saying goodbye to Rickon and Bran had been akin to having her heart scooped from her chest with a rusty spoon. Every tear Rickon shed tore at her, each cry and plea to stay a knife buried deep. It was for the best, they all knew it, but the pain was more than she imagined. The mountain was empty without them–cold, all the luster gone. How she missed them, how they all did. 

_ _

Then Jon, her protective,  _ idiot _ lover, went to rid the world of Ramsay and his goons. They had succeeded, but she still didn’t think he grasped what would’ve happened had they not. It was such a terrifying concept to wrap her head around. One wrong move, one snap of a twig, and it could’ve gone horribly wrong, and they never would’ve known where to look for them. She had survived the loss of her family but was almost certain she wouldn't survive losing him.

_ _

She took a cleansing breath and leaned back in her chair as she finished the last paper, grasping onto the sense of accomplishment washing over her. She was free to enjoy Jon to her leisure when he returned. Could once again get lost in him and allow him to do the same, as they'd done earlier that day by the river. The thought of changing clothes and waiting for him, posed seductively on the sofa flitted through her mind. She smiled imagining his reaction to her and her  _ silky things _ as he called them. 

_ _

He was such a wonderful man with a beautiful heart and she couldn’t wait until he ‘asked her proper’. For them to belong to each other till the end of their days. And to hopefully live out those days in peace.

_ _

As she gathered the papers to put them back in her portfolio, she stopped mid-task, the unmistakable scent of smoke tickling her nose. She looked up, eyes darting around the kitchen, but saw nothing. She hadn't cooked there in days. And it wasn't the furnace, that odor was much different. The smell grew stronger. On her feet now, she ran to the living room, heart skittering at the orange glow filling the room. She rushed to the window already knowing what she would find. 

_ _

Her worst fears were realized at the dreadful sight of bright flames dancing within the schoolhouse. 

_ _

“NO!” 

_ _

She barely recognized her own anguished scream as she raced to the door. She almost had it open, but a pair of hands shoved her into it so forcefully, she bounced off the wood. Pain splintered through her head, stunning her, but still she fought back against her unseen attacker as they pushed her again, this time trapping her. If she could dislodge them with a hard push or a whip of her arms…

_ _

The pointed tip of a knife pricked her side, a hard yank tore at her hair, and the scent of alcohol filled her nose. She turned her head away, going still. 

_ _

_ Calm, I need to be calm. _

_ _

“Your bastard missed,” came a breath into her ear. 

_ _

Her eyes widened, panic settling into the very marrow of her bones. _It_ _couldn't be. He was dead._ Heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird, she feared it might actually explode with fear. Self-preservation kicked in. She stomped at his foot as she had Locke that day outside, but he moved at the last second and slammed her harder against the wood. Her mouth took the worst of it, the metallic taste of blood spilling across her tongue, lips pulsing with pain.

_ _

“None of that,” he growled and jerked her away from the door. 

_ _

He steered her toward the sofa, hand still fisted in her hair, knife digging into her side. She cried out and kicked as he shoved her face down into the cushions, pinning her body beneath his. She panicked for a instant, unable to breathe, his weight crushing. Then rage joined the terror burning through her. She wouldn’t let this happen, again _. She would not. _ She thrashed, and clawed, and kicked, doing everything she could to break his hold on her. 

_ _

He roared and yanked her up by the hair. She screamed, her scalp stinging, body bowed back painfully from the force, spine threatening to crack. As she braced her hands on the sofa to relieve the pressure the edge of his knife came to sit at her throat, bit into her skin. She froze. 

_ _

“Dead or alive, Snow will find your mutilated body,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “It's up to you how bad you want it be for him.”

_ _

His voice was all wrong. It was Ramsay, she knew it was, even though he hadn't yet allowed her to see him. But gone was the sing song lilt his words always carried, in its place a deadly resolve. This was no longer a game, he was done playing. Whether or not he raped her as he'd threatened for so long, he meant to kill her. 

_ _

Jon's precious face swam before her watery eyes. He’d find her–just as she had her parents–lifeless and covered in blood. Murdered. He would never forgive himself for leaving her, would hunt Ramsay down to the ends of the earth and kill, or be killed, maybe both. 

_ _

She couldn't let that happen. 

_ _

Ramsay forced her face back into the cushions and she went limp, hoping he'd believe she’d passed out. She let her arm drop off the sofa to the floor, hand slipping beneath it. She’d hidden a knife there after he’d broken in. Slowly, she searched, moving as little as possible as he shifted above her, sitting over her thighs. The distinct sounds of clothes being removed reached her ears and she swallowed against the knot of panic in her throat. Then her fingertips brushed across cold metal and she nearly cried out in relief. She stretched them, bones and joints protesting, inching them further. Finally she was able to hook them around the handle and drag it closer. Carefully. Quietly. Gripping it in her hand the second she could.

_ _

Ramsay had pulled her blouse and camisole free and was pulling them taut, mumbling things she'd closed her ears to. She felt the fabric give, his knife ripping through all the way up to her neck, the tip of the blade nicking her skin just below her hairline. He dropped the useless pieces to her sides and slid his fingers down her bare spine to her skirt, slipping them beneath the waistband. It was all she could do not to scream, took every ounce of strength she had to remain still.

_ _

As his knife cut into her lower back, her skirt, her drawers, she sent up a silent prayer her plan would work, that she could pull it off. It was now or never. 

_ _

_ Please God. _

_ _

Flipping abruptly to her side, she slashed the knife across his face. He drew back in shock, fingering the gash, eyes black and blazing once they spotted blood. His retaliation was immediate. He backhanded her across the cheek, his own blade slicing her skin. She barely flinched despite the stinging pain and flashing lights in her eyes. Adrenaline raced like a crazed horse through her veins. He went for her knife, just as she knew he would. She shifted at the last moment and rent her hands down, burying it in his inner thigh as hard as she could. 

_ _

He recoiled with a monstrous scream and fell backwards, clutching at his leg. But she had held fast, her grip deathly tight, and let the momentum slice him open. It felt no different than carving a ham, save for his thrashing and howling. And the blood. There was so much blood. It was everywhere, flowing from him like a fountain, spraying her face and chest, spreading across the floor. Her hands slick and warm with it. 

_ _

The horror finally registered and her lungs sucked in great gasps of air, none of them letting her breathe. Releasing her hold on the knife as if scalded, she scrambled to her feet, heart pounding in her throat, every inch of her shaking. She stumbled, her ripped and ruined clothes falling down and tripping her. She grabbed the front of her skirt, holding it up and ran around the coffee table to her desk, grabbing the gun she'd left there. Ramsay was still screaming, crawling toward her, vicious and foul curses spewing. 

_ _

She ran, past him and out of the house, knowing at any moment his fingers were going to fist in her hair. Grab her. Pin her back down. But they never did. She made it into the yard and fired off two shots, running until she saw the familiar outline of Brienne rushing toward her, shotgun in hand. 

_ _

Shadows came running at her from the burning schoolhouse, she spun around and aimed. The shot shattered the air, drowning out the yelling voices. Her wrists were suddenly caught in a strong grip, the gun wrenched from her hands.  _ Brienne.  _ She fell into her arms, releasing the sobs she’d been holding back. 

_ _

Brienne shouted something and removed her heavy coat, wrapping it around her. “Miss Storm? Where are you hurt? Who did this?”

_ _

“R-Ramsay,” she gasped.

_ _

“Is he dead?”

_ _

She shook her head and Brienne held her tight, picking her up and running. She had to beg her to stop, bile rising dangerously in her throat. Brienne sat her down quickly, but gently, and held her hair back as she vomited. It did nothing to ease her nerves, the taste of sick in her mouth bitter and revolting. Just like him. His words, his touch.

_ _

Someone passed her a handkerchief and she wiped at her mouth, the white cloth coming away red. She threw it away from her. A blanket was draped over her shoulders, strong hands rubbing her arms, gentler ones brushing back her hair, soft words whispered. She opened her eyes. Brienne and a gentleman she didn't know were crouched at her sides, their expressions pained. She looked past them to the people lined up near her house, some she recognized, others not, all passing bucket after bucket of water, wetting it down to keep it from catching fire. They had to be freezing–wet, in their nightclothes, feet bare. The sight pulled another sob from her throat. 

_ _

Her back was burning, the hungry flames devouring the schoolhouse spreading their rage to all around. She pulled herself from Brienne's arms, turning to see, unable to control the morbid urge. It was engulfed. The walls, the roof. There was no hope of saving it. Her heart breaking into shattered pieces, she watched, deafened by the roar, cracks and pops as loud as gunfire. The fire a splintering monster eating away her precious memories. The dragon Bran had made her was lost, little Rickon’s desk, the children’s terrarium, their books and drawings. All of it was gone, destroyed by one man's greed and madness.

_ _

_ Be dead, be dead, be dead. _

_ _

“Did I shoot him?” she whispered.

_ _

“No, you missed, thank God,” Brienne answered, then added sharply, “Don't worry, it's not hers.”

_ _

Dany spun around, confusion and outrage spurring her, only to meet a pair of familiar dark eyes. He stared, terror etched on his sweet face. “Dany,” he gasped and she went, without thought, flinging herself into his arms with a cry. The world fell away as she clung to his strength, her face buried in his neck, his smell filling her nose, hiding the scent of burning wood and blood. They were on the ground and he rocked her gently, whispering nonsense, hands stroking over her as if he feared she wasn't real. 

_ _

She didn't feel real, nothing did.

_ _

Time slipped away and she fell into a quiet darkness, everything dim and muffled, but Jon was there with her, holding her, so it didn't matter. 

_ _

“Lass, we need to go,” he whispered. She lifted her head from his chest and saw two men standing above them, their white uniforms glowing orange in the firelight. “Let’s get you to the hospital to get checked out,” Jon coaxed her. She nodded and he stood, and lifted her into his arms, the blanket wrapped around her the only thing keeping her modesty. 

_ _

She wanted to ask if they had caught Ramsay, but the words wouldn't leave her. Surely they had. How could he have possibly gotten away? All the blood, he had to be dead. He had to be. But if he wasn’t… He would tell Davos what Jon and Robb had done. She would lose him. 

_ _

She clung to him tighter, but he placed her on the gurney inside the ambulance, pulling her loose. He sat down on the floor beside her though, pale and sweaty, and took both her hands in his. There was blood smeared on his face and neck, his hands too. His shirt. The door slammed shut behind them and they both jumped. A moment later the vehicle moved beneath them and they watched the burning schoolhouse fade into the distance out the back glass.

_ _

*~*

_ _

She let her bloody, cut up clothes fall to the floor. The nurse picked them up and put them into a bag as she slipped into the gown she'd been given. Once she sat on the bed the blood was cleaned away, the nurse's touch gentle and detached. She didn’t ask any questions or offer any words of sympathy, only clipped apologies when Dany hissed or flinched. Dany was grateful for it. She wasn't ready for any conversation.

_ _

Jon hadn’t wanted to leave her, but it was at her insistence once the doctor arrived that he did, promising he'd be right outside the door if she needed him.

_ _

Doctor Pycell stood watching the nurse’s progress, stepping forward the moment she was done. He was elderly and looked to have all the bedside manner of a wet sponge. “Were you raped?” he asked, proving just that.

_ _

“Almost,” she answered, staring over his shoulder at the clock hanging on the wall until her eyes lost focus, the numbers blurred and doubled. “He slammed my head against the door a few times, hit me across the face, cut my clothes,” she recounted. “I fought him off.” Her hands shook. She laced them together, squeezing tight, and laid them in her lap. It all felt distant, as if it had happened to someone else and not her. 

_ _

_ I hope they caught him _ .  _ He couldn't have gotten far. Please, God. _

_ _

Pycell examined her head, fingers probing, flashing a blinding light in her eyes. He deduced she did not have a concussion, but that her lips and cheek were already starting to bruise–one split, the other cut. He cleaned them again and taped her cheek closed. Thankfully the laceration wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. He moved on, to the other cuts at her neck, back, and side.

_ _

“All superficial. Very lucky girl, indeed,” he told her. 

_ _

As he spread ointment over the cuts and bandaged them she tried not to think about what she would’ve done if her luck had run out, if he had succeeded. His threat still heavy in her mind. 

_ _

_ Please, let them catch him! _

_ _

Jon was permitted back into the room as soon as Pycell left. He’d cleaned up some as well, the blood washed from his skin, but not his shirt. He pulled a chair up beside her bed and took her hand in his, looking worn to tatters–still pale, curls limp, and his eyes... She could see it, the pain and guilt that were nearly eating him alive. She wouldn’t let this ruin him. She wouldn’t. 

_ _

She moved over in the bed, tugging on his hand. “Lay with me.” He shook his head, eyes dropping to the floor.  _ Please don’t push me away, now! I need you. _ “Please,” she nearly sobbed and he was on his feet in an instant, laid beside her the next.

_ _

She settled against him, head on his chest–arms around him, his around her–and imagined they were home, safe in his bed. That it was just any other night. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the steady, if somewhat quick beat of his heart, and slowly, a semblance of relief began to wash through her. Pulling and tugging, making her feel as if she could sleep forever as it seeped into her very bones. 

_ _

She needed to assuage his guilt, say something to ease it, but those words, whatever they were would not come. They were lost in the dark storm of her mind. She pressed a kiss to his chest in compensation and he shuddered beneath her, pulling in a shaky breath, but gathered her closer. 

_ _

They laid there, drawing what comfort they could from one another until a knock at the door had Jon rising from the bed and grabbing his gun from the table. Holding it behind his back he gave her a nod. “Come in,” she said softly. 

_ _

Davos came through the doorway and a shock of prickling cold ran through her, hope and fear at war.  _ Please God, please. _ He stepped up to the end of her bed, his look grave as he held his hat in his hand, staring at her. Brienne and Tormund entered quietly after him, closing the door behind them.

_ _

“I’m glad ta see ya lookin’ a bit better, Miss Storm,” Brienne said softly. 

_ _

Dany gave her the best smile she could. “Thank you, Brienne, for being there and helping me.”

_ _

She blushed, nodding her head before dropping her gaze to the floor. Tormund looked at his wife, adoration shining in his bright blue eyes.

_ _

“Davos,” Jon prodded, “Tell me you got good news. You caught him, right?”

_ _

The Sheriff eyed him, then the other two, and finally her. “He’s dead.”

_ _

She heard Jon release a heavy breath, saw his body seem to melt at those two simple words. But it felt as if Davos had plunged her into an icy river. Shock, fear, and numbness overtook her. She sat frozen, her hand over her mouth, heart frantically beating within her chest. She could barely breathe. He was dead. She'd killed him. She attempted to let the words sink in, but a knot of anxiety still churned within her stomach, despite the relief. Ramsay was gone, but she’d heard that before. 

_ _

Jon looked at her, much the same written in his brown eyes. He turned back at Davos. “How?”

_ _

She swallowed down the bile, feeling the knife sink deep...all the blood. “The cut, in his leg?” she whispered.

_ _

Davos nodded. “Bled out on your back porch,” he answered. Tormund and Jon shared a look, both men showing signs of guilt, but neither said anything. Davos took a small notepad and pencil out of his coat pocket. “Afraid I have to ask ya some questions. We can do it alone...”

_ _

“No. They can stay. More witnesses.” She took a deep breath, cursing the way her body refused to stop trembling. Jon sat beside her again, taking her hands in his. She didn't wait for Davos to ask anything, the sooner it was over the better. “I had just finished grading papers and was putting them back in my portfolio when I smelled smoke. I saw the schoolhouse on fire and was rushing to the door when he hit me from behind and pushed me up against it.” 

_ _

She glanced at Jon. He looked as if he'd be sick at any moment. Maybe she should have done this alone. He met her eyes and she silently offered to free him from the burden of knowing. He gave the tiniest shake of his head and pulled her hands up to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

_ _

She wanted nothing more than to have the world vanish just then. To hide away with him until their wounds no longer ached. But she knew all too well how cruel the world was and that it would never allow them such. 

_ _

She looked back at Davos. “He spouted some filth and pinned me face down on the sofa. I hid a knife under it after they broke in. I was able to grab it, went limp beneath him to let him think I had passed out. H-he sta-arted cutting off m-my clothes.” Jon released her hands and wrapped his arms around her. She borrowed from his strength and forced the rest out. “He...moved and I was able to roll over and cut his face. He hit me, but before he could grab my hands and stop me, I buried the knife in his leg. He fell off of me onto the floor. I grabbed my gun and ran out of the house. The rest...is a blur.”

_ _

Davos wrote on his pad for awhile then turned to Brienne and Tormund. “Which of ya got ta her first?”

_ _

“I did,” Brienne answered. “I was already runnin’ to the schoolhouse to help with the fire. When I heard the two shots go off, I ran toward her. Me and Tormund told her that if she ever got in trouble to fire two shots and we'd come runnin’. She was bleedin’ from her face, covered in blood. When I asked her who it was she said Ramsay and I got her away where I had a good eye on the door, just in case that son of a bitch came runnin’ out.” She took a deep breath. “Y'all showed up not long after.”

_ _

The room was silent as everyone took in her account of what happened, all knowing the threat Ramsay had been, yet in the end, all still helpless to stop him. 

_ _

Davos looked at her, his blue eyes shining with concern. “Which side of his face did you cut?”

_ _

She bit her lip, not even remembering if her eyes had been open when she slashed at his face, only the feel of his blood splattering against her own. “I don’t remember. Left maybe? Yes, it had to be the left.”

_ _

Davos wrote that down as well, then heaved a sigh. “Did you see Locke? Was he there?”

_ _

Hearing his name, she only then realized how much worse it could’ve been. “No,” she answered. “If he was, I never saw him.”

_ _

“Ramsay'd been shot, I believe,” Davos said, something guarded in his tone. Her heart gave a painful lurch, the shock of it rippling down her arms. She gripped Jon’s hand in hers. “There was a wound on the side of his head, few days old by the looks of it. I'd say from a bullet grazing him. Pretty deep too. Don’t know how it didn't kill em. Any of ya know anythin’ about that?”

_ _

Jon had her squeezed tight into his side. She could almost feel the guilt running through him. She prayed Davos didn't notice how his breathing had picked up. All four of them shook their heads as Davos eyed them one by one. Tormund mumbled a 'no sir.' 

_ _

“We went to visit Tyrion a few days ago,” Jon offered, his voice wavering. He faltered, swallowing hard.

_ _

“To tell him about Arya and Gendry,” she added for him quickly. “He told us Tywin had Ramsay and Locke beat for breaking into my house.”

_ _

“Did he now?” Davos mused.

_ _

Jon nodded, having grasped a bit of calm. “I asked Gendry if he remembered noticin’ em lookin’ roughed up. He did, said both of em had been. Maybe it was more punishment?”

_ _

Davos sucked a breath between his teeth. “Knowin’ that bunch like I do, I wouldn't be surprised.”

_ _

It was a million wonders none of them wilted in relief, or blew out the panicked breaths they'd been holding. Seeming none the wiser, Davos looked around the room. He spotted her bag of clothes and pointed at it. “Do ya mind if I take those? Evidence, ya see.”

_ _

“Evidence for what?” Jon was quick to ask.

_ _

“Prove ta anyone that asks that Ramsay was there ta do harm ta Miss Storm. As far as I’m concerned, his death was an act of self-defense. No need ta traumatize her more by tryin’ ta arrest her. ‘Sides, there were enough folks that saw her run screamin’ out a’ her house. Doubt anyone would be stupid enough to try to have a woman arrested that managed to kill her would-be rapist. And in case they are, I got proof he was there ta hurt her.”

_ _

Jon took a deep breath and glanced down at her. “Take them,” she said, looking to Davos.

_ _

He gave them a nod and picked up the bag. “I gotta ride out to Roose’s house and tell him ‘bout his boy. I’ll let you know how it goes. I sure am glad you’re alright, Miss Storm. But I'm awful sorry it came to this.”

_ _

“Thank you, Sheriff.”

_ _

Jon got up and shook his hand. Davos pulled him into a hug mumbling something to him then left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

_ _

She watched Jon, arms folded over his chest, his eyes fixed on the floor. He had tried to prevent this. Had wanted nothing more than to keep her safe. She could let her fear swallow her whole, but she knew if she did, she’d lose Jon. The guilt would eat him alive. 

_ _

She would channel her riotous emotions, focus them on making him see it wasn’t his fault. She'd find someway to make him understand, to make him see she didn’t blame him. 

_ _

Tormund shifted on his feet and shook his head. “I told ya we should have checked,” he hissed.

_ _

Jon flinched, never looking up. Though Tormund was right, Dany wanted to smack him.

_ _

Brienne did it for her, giving a good lick to his arm. “Too late, now,” she griped. “But you  _ will _ go up there and get the other two and hide em. Tonight, before anyone else can go lookin’. I’ll stand guard here until you get back.”

_ _

“Stand guard?” Dany asked.

_ _

Brienne nodded. “Just in case.” 

_ _

Tormund went to Jon, grabbing his arms and shaking him until he looked up. “It's gonna be alright. I'll take care of it,” he told him softly. “It's my fault ya went up there in first place, I won't be lettin’ ya go down for it.”

_ _

Jon nodded but didn't speak. Brienne jerked her head at Tormund and he left. She held back one side of her coat, showing her gun to them. “I’ll be sittin’ right outside,” she said. 

_ _

Jon closed the door behind her and shoved his hands into his pockets, staring at the floor. “I’m...I’m so sorry,” he whispered. She shook her head, forcing back tears, and held her hand out to him. He hesitated, only glancing at her, staying near the door. 

_ _

She bit back her temper, knowing him well enough by now to know he had a tendency to wear blame like a winter coat, heavy and binding. She cursed the shrew that raised him, treated him like a burden, certain if not for her, his bad opinion of himself would be non-existent. “Jon, please.”

_ _

He gave a small twist of his head, looking at her through dark lashes wet with tears. Her heart broke and she reached for him, again. He took slow steps toward her, each one seeming to cause another piece of him to crumble. They were both crying in earnest by the time he took her hand. 

_ _

She pulled him down beside her, pressed her forehead to his, and cupped his cheeks. “This is not your fault. I made you leave,” she whispered.

_ _

“I shouldn't a’ listened to ya. I shoulda stayed.”

_ _

“We thought he was gone, we didn't know.”

_ _

He let out an anguished growl. “Cause I didn't fuckin’ make sure! I shoulda made sure.” He pulled her closer, holding onto her as if she'd disappear at any moment. “I thought I had...” he whispered. “Tormund told me we shoulda checked–”

_ _

“And what if he was laying in wait for you to do just that? He would've killed you, Jon, then the rest.” She pressed her lips to his, ignoring the pain. “We’re both alive. And he's not. That’s all that matters. He  _ never _ did.”

_ _

“I thought I lost you,” he gasped.

_ _

She tugged him down and rested his head over her breast. “You didn’t. I’m still here,” she whispered against his hair. “It will take much more than him to take me away from you.” She ran her fingers through his curls, soothing herself as well as him. “How did you know to come back?” She needed to know and he needed to talk. They both did, no matter how it hurt, anything to keep the wounds from festering.

_ _

“Davos. Told me he saw him this mornin’. I ran to the door, saw the fire and just kept runnin’.”

_ _

“You ran the whole way?”

_ _

“Yeah, I ain't never been so scared in my life.”

_ _

“I'm sorry.”

_ _

“Dany, it ain't your fault. I'm the one that's sorry.”

_ _

“No, Jon. We can't do this. Blaming ourselves… it'll ruin us. It was his fault and only his.” He looked away from her, but she followed his gaze, realizing it was time to confess. “The night you came to the house and I was in the bath...I found a note in my mailbox that morning with a dead lizard laying on top of it. It was from him, saying he looked forward to getting to know me better. I could've shown it to Davos, but I didn't, because I'm stubborn to the point of foolish and I didn't tell you because I feared what you would do. But you risked your life to stop him anyway, to protect me. Killing him was the only way to stop him, you were right about that. He was insane. We could've locked me in a cage and he still would have found a way. What happened tonight isn't on either of us,” she whispered. “Am I rattled? Of course I am, but I don't blame you, so don't you dare try to take it.”   
  


“I can't help it,” he said, voice rough and broken.

_ _

“I know.”

_ _

He wrapped his arms around her gently, pressing his wet face into her neck. “I love you, Dany. More than I thought a person could love.”

_ _

She rested her cheek against his head and let her tears flow freely. “That’s exactly how I feel for you too, Jon Snow.”

_ _

*~*

_ _

A knock sounded at the door, and Jon had his gun in his hand again. She had dozed off against his shoulder. They weren’t expecting anyone. He cocked the gun and at his nod, she bid the person to enter. 

_ _

Relief washed over her to see Margaery and Robb walk in. Jon got up from the bed and Margaery rushed to her, wrapping her arms around her. “Are you alright?”

_ _

Dany nodded as Margaery’s thumb traced over her cheek. “I’m alright. How did you know?”

_ _

“Howland Reed is one of your neighbors. He grew up with our Pa. He figured we needed to know so he rode up and told us,” Robb answered as he stood at the end of her bed with his head hung. He looked up at her, tears shining in the blue depths of his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dany.”

_ _

“Not you, too,” she said, releasing a deep breath. “This is not your fault,” she held up a hand, stopping him from speaking, “It’s not. I don’t blame any of you. So, please, don’t blame yourselves.”

_ _

Margaery took her hands. “Howland didn’t tell us much.”

_ _

She shrugged. “Ramsay burnt down the schoolhouse and attacked me. Tried to rape me. I killed him,” she muttered. She didn’t know why she felt something dark and smothering bubbling in her stomach when she said that. Ramsay was a monster. She should feel nothing. Maybe the pain and uneasiness meant she was human. She hated it, though. He deserved to be put down like the dog he was. 

_ _

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Margaery said softly.

_ _

She nodded. “I am. Considering.”

_ _

Jon cleared his throat. “Tormund’s gone to clean up...”

_ _

“Already done,” Robb said. “He’s sittin’ outside.”

_ _

“And?”

_ _

“Everythin’ else was where it was supposed to be,” he answered cryptically.

_ _

“What’d he do?”

_ _

Robb shrugged. “Said the less we know the better.”

_ _

Margaery looked from the brothers back to her. “Do you need anything?”

_ _

She shook her head. “No. I’m going to insist on being released when the doctor comes back. So we can come home.”

_ _

Robb nodded and looked at Jon. “Give me the keys to the car. We’ll go get it and bring it here.”

_ _

Jon handed over the keys as Margaery embraced her again. “Do you want us to get anything from your house?”

_ _

“Jon and I can do that when we leave.” Margaery brushed gentle fingers across her cheek and frowned. “I’m alright. I promise.”

_ _

Margaery nodded but reached for her hands again. “Brienne and Tormund have promised to stay until you’re released. He said they would even escort you two up the mountain.”

_ _

Jon ran a hand through his hair. “You two should head back home. Let the others know we’re alright.”

_ _

Margaery gave her one last hug and stood, hugging Jon as well, before she walked out of the room with Robb. 

_ _

Jon sat beside her again, linking his fingers with hers. They both still had blood under their nails. “How you feelin’?”

_ _

“Anxious,” she replied. “I’m ready to go home.”

_ _

He pulled her into a hug. “We’ll swing by the sheriff’s office and see if Davos will let us in to get some a’ your things.”

_ _

She heaved a deep breath and squeezed him tighter. “I want my trunk.”

_ _

He nodded. “I’ll make sure we get it.” He brought his hand up and cupped her face, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I love you.”

_ _

“I love you too,” she whispered.

_ _

*~*

_ _

Robb dropped off the car a couple hours later. Margaery had been thoughtful enough to bring her some clothes since hers had been ruined. Once morning came, Pycell thankfully agreed to release her from the hospital, suggesting peace and quiet for a few days. Jon had stayed quiet through the night, resting with her, holding her. It didn't take much for her to gather how truly terrified he’d been when he realized Ramsay was still alive. 

_ _

The truth was, she was doing everything she could not to think about the attack. She knew if she had made one wrong move, everything would have ended. She would've died horribly and Jon would’ve suffered from her loss, probably never to recover. Those thoughts were simply too much to handle. 

_ _

As they pulled down her street, the sight of the gutted schoolhouse nearly undid her. She put her hand over her mouth to contain the sob that desperately wanted to escape. It didn’t, though, and she chalked that up as a small victory. 

_ _

Davos and his deputy were standing outside of her house when they pulled up. “Miss Storm, glad to see ya,” he greeted her as Jon helped her out of the car.

_ _

She gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

_ _

Tormund and Brienne pulled up behind them as Jon put his arm around her, somehow knowing she needed him to keep her upright. “We came to get some of her things.”

_ _

“She can’t go in,” Davos said softly, his frown regretful. “Still a crime scene and she’s the victim. I shouldn't let you go in either, Jon, but I will. Just long enough to get some of her things.”

_ _

Jon didn't look happy about that news, but she was relieved. She stepped out of his hold and ran a hand down his arm. “It's okay, I didn't really want to go in anyway.”

_ _

He kissed her forehead and cast a look at Tormund and Brienne who were both standing at the back of their car, watchful as wary prey. The couple nodded, their silent agreement to protect her loud and clear. Jon turned to Davos and tilted his head toward the house. “Come help me with somethin’?”

_ _

“Matthos, stay here and guard Miss Storm,” Davos ordered him and followed Jon.

_ _

The deputy gave a nod as Dany watched them walk up onto the porch. Jon came to a stand still just inside her front door. She suppressed a shiver, knowing what he was seeing, worried how he would take it, whether rage, guilt, or melancholy would consume him. Davos gripped his shoulder and urged him on inside.

_ _

She prayed he'd be alright and turned over to the charred ruin that was once the school. There was barely anything recognizable left. Only the brick foundations poking through the ash and a few pieces of the walls still standing. Deputy Matthos followed behind her as she stepped through where the back door had once been. Brienne and Tormund had made their way closer as well. 

_ _

The utter destruction had her cursing Ramsay, and his brutal indifference again. The children would be so heartbroken, many of their families left with no other options for schooling. Hopefully, the town had enough resources they could rebuild again soon, or perhaps had an empty building in need of use available somewhere close.

_ _

She wandered over to the charred husk that was once her desk, holding back another sob, remembering how it had been a snake hidden in one of its drawers that had brought her and Jon together.

_ _

She ran her toe through the burnt remains and a bubble of joy burst forth. The dragon statue Bran had made laid amongst the ashes, miraculously still in one piece. She bent over and picked it up, releasing a happy cry. It was blackened and warm to the touch, but still whole. 

_ _

_ Of course, fire cannot kill a dragon. _

_ _

“Are you alright, Miss?” Deputy Matthos asked after her.

_ _

She nodded and looked up at him, a genuine smile on her face. “Yes,” she said as she pressed the dragon to her chest and walked back through the ashes. By the time she made it to the car, Jon had one of her suit cases loaded into the back as well as her trunk. 

_ _

He was pale again and looked as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, his brow pinched and turned down in worry. He took her face in his hands and swiped away the tears.

_ _

She could see the apologies rising up, ready to spill from his lips. She had to stop them. “Look what I found,” she whispered, holding up the dragon for him to see. His face immediately softened. “It’s a little burnt...but it’s–” Jon pulled her against him, drawing in deep breaths from her neck. She held onto him just as tight, feeling as if the two of them were a half tied knot caught on a rusted nail, the wind threatening to rip them away and into the storm.

_ _

Davos cleared his throat after a bit, and they pulled apart from each other. “Miss Storm, we’ll let ya know when ya can retrieve your other items and return to the house.”

_ _

She nodded, even though she had no intention of ever returning. Brienne and Tormund were already in their truck, waiting for them. Jon opened the car door for her and she slid inside, still holding the dragon to her chest. Davos and his deputy went back into the house as Jon backed up, turned around and drove them toward the mountain. 

_ _

Toward home.

_ _

*~*

_ _

Bronn and Arya were on the porch when they arrived. They both stood, setting down their guns. Jon jogged around and helped her out. She didn't need him to but knew he needed to feel useful. 

_ _

Seeing that all was well, Tormund had turned his truck around, and he and Brienne waved as they drove off. 

_ _

Bronn had come down into the yard to greet them, his weathered face weary, but relieved. He surprised her, taking her hand between his and squeezing it. “I'm right glad to see you in one piece. Gave us all quiet the scare. But good on ya for givin’ that bastard the endin’ he deserved.” 

_ _

She nearly cried, her emotions so precariously balanced. “I told you I would,” she managed evenly, with a small smile as well. 

_ _

He tilted his head and nodded. “You sure did. Won't be doubtin’ you again,” he said, giving her a wink. 

_ _

She glanced up to the porch. Arya was waiting anxiously, swaying on her crutch, her mouth pressed into a hard line, brows drawn. She looked back at Bronn. “We brought my trunk, could you help Jon with it, please?” 

_ _

He hurried to do her bidding and she climbed the steps, going to Arya. She was looked over by critical grey eyes. “Did it feel good? To kill him?” Arya finally asked.

_ _

Dany did her best not to react, to not let Arya see her tremble. She steadied her breathing and licked at the cut on her lip. “No, it didn't.” Arya recoiled at that, scowling fiercely. “But, am I glad he's gone? Yes. He'll never hurt you, or me, or anyone else again.”

_ _

“Well I'm glad you made it painful,” she seethed, “Glad he bled out like the pig he was.”

_ _

Dany didn't know what possessed her, but she hugged Arya then, and thankfully she was too startled by it to pull away. “We'll get them all, I promise you.” A hand took a fistful of her dress, but that was the only response she got. She squeezed her a bit tighter, wondering when Arya had last gotten a proper hug from a friend. She decided it was as good a time as any to ask her for a favor as well. “Could you do something for me?” she whispered. “Forgive your brother, he only wanted to protect us and I don't think he could feel any worse than he already does.”

_ _

Arya pulled away, eyes narrowed and nose snarled. She moved around her and down the steps, barely missing Jon and Bronn as they brought up the trunk.

_ _

“Arya, wait a minute and let one a’ us help ya,” Jon hollered at her back. 

_ _

“I don't need no help,” she snapped and kept on hobbling. 

_ _

Jon stopped, closing his eyes and letting out an exhausted sigh. Dany rubbed his back. “She'll come around when it's all over.” 

_ _

He shook his head. “She either will or she won't. Even if there was somethin’ else I could do, I'm tired of tryin’.”

_ _

Bronn got the screen door opened and they moved on through, she followed them in. 

_ _

*~*

_ _

She sat on the bed as Jon brought in the rest of her things. She should've been putting her clothes away, but she couldn't seem to move. Only stare at the floor and Jon's boots passing by every once in awhile. 

_ _

Robb and Marg were sleeping since they'd been up most of the night. The boy’s bedroom doors were closed, so she assumed Loras and Garlan were sleeping as well. Bronn had taken himself back to the porch. 

_ _

The house was too quiet. She didn't like it. In the silence, she was unable to escape him and his phantom touches. Her skin crawled, pin picks of fear inching along. Unseen hands pulled and pushed at her, cut and bruised. A hushed voice whispered in her ear. Her every breath felt as if her lungs were made of crushed glass. But she was fine. It would all be fine.

_ _

The bed dipped and she startled, looking up into sweet, worried eyes. “What can I do?” he asked, voice rough and wavering as he brushed her hair back from her face. 

_ _

She probably looked a fright. Reaching up, she smoothed down her hair, wincing at her tender scalp. “I think I'd like a bath? A hot one.” She wanted to burn the monster's touch off her skin, scrub until she never felt it again.

_ _

Jon nodded and lent forward, kissing her forehead. “I'll go get it started for ya. Rest if ya want, I'll come get ya when it's ready.”

_ _

She shook her head and grasped his hand as he stood. Left alone was the last thing she wanted to be. He helped her to her feet and pulled her into a hug. She swallowed down the fresh wave of tears that threatened to over take her and hugged him back before walking to her suitcase. “Why don't you get some clothes too. We could both use a good scrubbing.”

_ _

He did as she suggested and followed her to the bathroom, both of them being as quiet as they could. 

_ _

Jon got the water going, stopping up the tub. He grabbed Margaery's soap bar and cut off a small chunk of it with his pocket knife and dropped it in. She watched the bubbles form, breathing in the sweet scent of verbena that wafted up with the steam. He continued to shuffle around–turning on the small electric heater, opening and closing the closet as he got towels for them. His boots softly thumped to the floor. And still, she stood, unmoving, watching the bubbles rise and fill the tub, the sound of the rushing water drowning out the noises in her head.

_ _

Then fingers were at her neck, working the buttons of her dress. It was instinctual, her brittle nerves unable to control themselves, her mind still trapped in her recent nightmare. She spun around, striking out at the threat. 

_ _

He was quick–had possibly expected such a reaction–stepping back and catching her flailing hands in a gentle grasp. “It's me, lass. It's Jon,” he shushed her, “I won't hurt ya, I'd never hurt ya.”

_ _

His cracking voice and tear-stricken eyes brought her back to herself with a jarring speed. She broke, the well of grief rising up like a storm cloud, a great sob bursting free. “Oh Jon, I'm so sorry,” she gasped, going to him, the pain written all over his face breaking her heart.

_ _

He wrapped her in his arms. “No, lass, no. It's alright, it's alright,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I shoulda let you know what I was doin’. It won't happen again.”

_ _

She cried, for what felt like an age. So angry that even dead and gone, Ramsay was still a dark specter casting his shadow over them. She hated herself for hurting Jon, knew even if she was the one attacked he had been just as traumatized, knew he loved her so deeply, her pain was his pain, just as he was hers. She wanted nothing more than to wipe the bastard from their memories, but it didn't work that way. They would have to find a different path through all of this. 

_ _

Finally, her tears slowed and Jon pulled away, wiping them from her cheeks, careful of her cut. He kissed her forehead and let her go, turning off the water before it could overflow. 

_ _

He came back to her, taking her hands in his and placed them on either side of his chest. “Let's try it a different way,” he whispered, dark eyes staring into hers. He was desperately trying to keep the pain from shining through them, a hundred tiny ripples of emotion flickering across his face. He swallowed, his tongue peeking out to lick at his full bottom lip as he slowly reached around, going for her buttons again. “I thought maybe, if you felt like it, we could go see the boys tomorrow. Heard there's a nice little lake behind Sansa's place. We could take em fishin’.”

_ _

She knew what he was doing, distracting her mind while keeping her eyes focused on him and not what his fingers were doing. Leaving enough space between them she didn't feel trapped or smothered, placed her hands on his chest so she could push away quickly if she felt the need. She'd never loved him more than she did right that moment. 

_ _

She drew in a shuddering breath and gave him the best smile she could. “I'd like that, very much. I miss them terribly.” 

_ _

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed, stepping back. He'd gotten all her buttons, freeing her to do the rest. 

_ _

She did, and a few moments later he was helping her into the tub. The water stung her skin, the fresh cuts hot searing brands, but she welcomed it, lying back with a groan, sinking beneath the bubbles up to her neck. Jon squatted down beside the tub, still dressed, and brushed his hand over her hair in slow strokes. 

_ _

Tears pricked and burned behind her eyes again, his sweetness keeping her walls in ruins. She swallowed them down, looking at him as she took his hand and pressed the back of his fingers to her cheek. “Why are you out there when you're supposed to be in here?”

_ _

“Ya sure ya want me to? Thought ya might want some time alone.”

_ _

She shook her head. “That's the last thing I want. Please, get in.”

_ _

He stood and undressed then moved to climb in the front of the tub, but she slid forward, making room for him behind her. He frowned at her, his head tilted. “Dany…”

_ _

“I'd hoped you’d wash my hair,” she told him, “It'll be easier this way.” 

_ _

Relenting, he eased out a pent-up breath and got in, hissing between his teeth, the water rising as he settled himself. 

_ _

“Too hot?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. “I can add some cold.”

_ _

He shook his head. “I'll get used to it. Wanna do your hair first?” 

_ _

“Please.” 

_ _

The water sloshed and dripped, the sounds echoing off the tile walls as he retrieved one of Rickon's cups from the shelf. His fingers gently smoothed down her tangled mess of hair and he gathered it all in one hand. “Lay your head back for me, lass,” he whispered, “Don't wanna get it in your eyes.” 

_ _

She did as asked and hot water immediately poured over her, soaking into her scalp, sending pleasant tingles through her. She shivered. 

_ _

“You alright?” he fretted.

_ _

“Mmm hmm, it felt good.”

_ _

She heard him scoop up more water and another cascade fell over her hair. One more and he sat the cup down and reached for Margaery's shampoo. She braced herself, knowing once his fingers touched her scalp it would hurt. He wasn't rough at all, too gentle really, massaging in the soap, starting at her hairline and working down. It felt wonderful until he reached the back of her head. She flinched and shied away, unable to stop herself.

_ _

“Shit, did I hurt you?”

_ _

“It's not your fault, my love. He...he pulled my hair quite a bit,” she whispered. 

_ _

Jon let out a vicious curse, immediately followed by a regretful sigh. “Would it be better if I let you do it?”

_ _

She shook her head and turned, stroking her fingers down his cheek. “I want you to. I need to feel hands that love me.”

_ _

His beautiful face contorted, eyes squeezed shut, brow pinched. A single tear escaped. Some soft strangled noise left him as he pulled her against his chest and held her there, apologies spilling forth. It tore her heart to shreds, but just like her, Jon needed to release it all. So she let him. 

_ _

Eventually, the storm passed for both of them and they were able to finish their bath. He bathed her, and she him, gentle and slow as one would a newborn babe, with careful hands and soft kisses. They dried each other as well, and dressed, neither speaking. Words would not heal their wounds, only love, and time. 

_ _

Ghost had found his way to their room, greeting them both silently as he licked at their hands. She’d grown fond of the wolf and his solid, quiet presence. It was especially comforting to have him near just then. Jon helped her to bed and walked over to the wardrobe, pulling out an old wool blanket. He hung it over the window, blocking out the surprisingly bright day before joining her. His stomach growled as she rolled into his chest. 

_ _

“We haven't eaten a thing today, have we? I could go find us something,” she offered. 

_ _

He shook his head and ran a hand up her side. “I'm fine, unless you want somethin’.”

_ _

“No. Just sleep, and you.” 

_ _

He kissed her good cheek, his lips lingering, drawing in a deep breath as his fingers filtered through her damp hair. He'd gently brushed all the tangles out before he helped her into her gown. 

_ _

She nuzzled into the hollow of his throat and her eyes drifted closed. She didn't know what she'd done to deserve him, but she thanked every god there was for allowing him into her life. 

_ _

“I love you, Jon.”

_ _

His throat worked and he squeezed her tighter. “I love you too, lass.”

_ _

She tried to sleep for awhile, listening to his heartbeat against her ear, matching her breathing to his, hoping to silence her mind, but it was no use. The demons wouldn't leave her alone. Forced her to speak. “What will we do if he told someone, Jon?” she whispered, her chest tight, the fears crushing. 

_ _

He pulled away and looked at her, no more asleep than she had been, his eyes bright with worry. “I don't know, lass. Pray, I reckon. Pray he didn't. Or if he did, pray they don't care or tell.”

_ _

She had his shirt gripped in her hand without thought. “We could run. All of us. I have enough money we could.” The words had rushed out, a river running scared. “We could leave. Go to Boston, or anywhere else. Where no one knows us.”

_ _

He stared at her, a dozen thoughts flitting across his face, all of them confused. “What about Tywin? And all the rest of em.”

_ _

“I don't care anymore, not if it means I could lose you. He knew it was you, Jon, he told me so. If Roose knows, Tywin… They'll come for you, or have you arrested, hang you,” she gasped.

_ _

He shushed her, pulling her back against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

_ _

She shoved at him. “You don't know that!”

_ _

“Shhhh, lass. Let's wait and see. Your people are bound to be here any time now. Once they do we can end it all. Be done with it for good. It'll all be over soon.”

_ _

“Jon–”

_ _

“I know, Dany,” he breathed, his hand rubbing over her back. “I’m scared too. We'll talk to Robb and them in a bit. See what they think, okay? But listen to me.” He pulled back and cupped her cheek. She fell into his brown eyes, soft and filled with strength. “Davos didn't say nothin’ to make me think he nor Roose knew. Or anyone else. He woulda warned me at your place, if he had.”

_ _

“What did he say?”

_ _

He shook his head. “Not much, just how sorry he was. Felt like he'd failed us all. Told me to take care of ya, and myself.”

_ _

“He didn't ask any more questions?”

_ _

“No, not a one.”

_ _

She thought on it a moment, unsure if that knowledge made her feel relieved or not. But she knew something that would. She looked up at Jon and pressed her hand to the side of his neck, ran her thumb across his beard. “I need you to promise me something again, and you have to keep it this time, Jon.”

_ _

“Whatever it is, I will. I swear it.”

_ _

“You'll run, if Roose or Tywin find out and come for you before my people get here, you'll run.”

_ _

His eyebrows rose. “ _ We'll _ run. I ain't leavin’ ya.” 

_ _

“Okay. We will,” she agreed, readily. 

_ _

He nodded and brushed her hair back from her face, tucking some behind her ear. “Feel better?”

_ _

“No.”

_ _

“Yeah, me neither,” he sighed. “Let's try to sleep some, maybe that'll help. Probably make us think straighter anyway.”

_ _

“Alright. Don't get up and leave me, okay?”

_ _

“I won't.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer. “I ain't never leavin’ ya again.”

_ _

*~*

_ _

The sun was just fading behind the trees when Garlan or Loras gave three sharp bangs to the side of the house. It was the signal they’d worked out that something was coming. Jon, Robb, and Bronn all grabbed their guns and exited the house. 

_ _

She and Margaery went to the door and stood behind the screen, both armed as well. The Hound on Arya’s porch across the yard, shotgun at the ready, Nymeria at his side. Her heart was racing even as Margaery grabbed her hand in support. 

_ _

Two expensive cars pulled up in front of the main house, followed by six trucks, each bed a small traveling home. 

_ _

Her heart stopped and she moved without thought as a familiar woman stepped out of the first car and looked around. Jon screwed the light back in as the screen door banged behind her and she took the steps down the porch, running into the open arms of Missandei.

_ _

They were both crying as they embraced, the sounds of doors opening and closing filling the air around them. “Is that our Princess?” Jeor’s friendly voice sounded and she released Missandei only to be pulled into another hug. 

_ _

“My friendly old bear,” she laughed through her tears. 

_ _

“How about a hug for the grumpy old bear?” Jorah said from his side. He lifted her from the ground when she went into his arms, her heart full to bursting. 

_ _

Grey was next as he had come around to stand beside Missandei. “How’s your cooking?”

_ _

She laughed and squeezed him tight. “The same as when I left.”

_ _

“Khaleesi,” a familiar voice called her. She turned to see Rakharo and his bright smile. He and the men that stood behind him went to one knee, hats held over their hearts. 

_ _

She stepped forward and bid him and the rest to stand, and was caught up in a massive hug by her dear friend. She looked at all of them once he put her down. “I’m so happy to see all of you.”

_ _

“Princess, why don’t you introduce us?” Jeor asked, nodding toward the house.

_ _

She turned to see the shocked, but curious faces of her newfound family staring at those of her old one. She held her hand out to Jon and he came down the steps, a small smile on his face for her. “Jon Snow, this...this is my other family.”

_ _

Jeor extended his hand and Jon shook it. “Jeor Mormont. You’re the young man Missandei tells us has stolen Daenerys’ heart?”

_ _

Jon nodded as she slipped her arm around his waist. “Not that I’m worthy of it.”

_ _

Jeor was silent for a moment then smiled. “As long as you realize how lucky you are, we’ll get along just fine.”

_ _

She brought Jon to stand before Missandei and Grey. “Missy, Grey, this is my Jon Snow.”

_ _

Jon extended his hand and shook both of theirs. “Dany’s told me ‘bout both of ya. It's a pleasure.”

_ _

Grey nodded and took a deep breath as he gazed at Dany. “Nice to see you smiling again.”

_ _

“It’s just nice to see you,” she said softly. “As for my smiling, thank Jon.” He blushed under her praise and she placed a kiss on his cheek. 

_ _

She introduced him to Jorah and Rokahrro before hugging her friend again. Missandei pulled away and stroked a gentle finger over her cheek. “Who did this?”

_ _

Dany sighed. “A lot has happened since I wrote you.”

_ _

Bronn stepped down from the porch and extended his hand to Jeor. “Bronn Blackwater. You seem to be in charge. Let’s have a conversation ‘bout who you brought with you and I’ll tell you ‘bout what’s comin’.”

_ _

Jeor nodded to the crowd behind him. “Where can they rest?”

_ _

Robb looked at the group with wide, worried eyes. “Only place we got big enough to house everybody is gonna be the barn.”

_ _

Rakharo pointed to the barn and his men loaded back into their trucks and drove over to it. 

_ _

“I’ll go see what they need and hope we got it,” Robb said, glancing at them. Garlan and Loras followed him. 

_ _

“Have you eaten?” Margaery asked.

_ _

Jorah nodded. “We ate a few hours ago. They didn’t seem too happy to see us.”

_ _

“People in these parts are wary of strangers,” Jon said.

_ _

Missandei took Dany’s hand. “Something like that.” She hugged her again. “I’m so happy to see you.”

_ _

Dany laid her head on friend’s shoulder and breathed in that perfect scent of jasmine that always reminded her of her dear friend. “So happy I could cry.  _ Again _ ,” she said with a laugh. 

_ _

“Why don’t we get inside,” Jon suggested, “Startin’ to get a bit cold.” Missandei and Grey followed them in. “My two little brothers are stayin’ with my sister a few counties over. Y’all can have one of their rooms.”

_ _

But Missandei grabbed Dany by the elbow before they made it past the kitchen, her face creased with a frown. “Tell me what happened and who will be the first one that dies.”

_ _

Jon stiffened at her side, but she ran her hand over his back. “He’s already dead,” she told her.

_ _

“Has that got anything to do with the school being burnt down and why the sheriff was at your house?”

_ _

She nodded. “I was attacked last night. I killed him before he could me.”

_ _

“Lannister?” Missandei asked.

_ _

“No, one of his lackeys.”

_ _

Grey frowned. “You seen Lannister, yet?”

_ _

She shook her head. “No, but I’ve met some of his goons and his grandson. He’s as nasty as Tywin in a different way.”

_ _

Missandei shrugged a shoulder and looked at Grey, her brow furrowed. “He’ll die just like his grandfather.”

_ _

Dany gave them a slight smile. “With Fire and Blood.”

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay has set the schoolhouse on fire as a distraction while he has crept into Dany's house while Jon is gone. He assaults her and in the middle of his sexual assault, Dany grabs a knife she had hidden and cuts his face and his groin and leaves him laying in his living room bleeding. She runs outside and into the safe arms of Brienne and eventually Jon. They take her to the hospital where she is patched up and watched over. Davos comes to get a statement and takes Dany's bloody clothes with him to show to anyone who may take issue with her actions that Ramsay was out to hurt her and anything she did was done in self-defense.


	25. Our Gathered and Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery has a heart-to-heart with Arya and a visit to the boys is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge kudos to justwanderingneverlost for the gorgeous mood board.
> 
> Thank you for all the love and support you guys have given to this fic over the last several months. We've had an absolute blast writing it together. It's actually difficult for me to go back and write my single projects alone because I'm so used to having JW there with me! We hope you enjoy this chapter as there is some sweetness amongst all the bad. 
> 
> The song used in the chapter is "Baby Mine" from the movie Dumbo.

 

 

 

 _Oh, thy blood runs deep_  
_Thick as thieves, who are we?_  
_Oh we, boundless one_  
_Carry on where we’re from_  
  
_With the wind our voices ring_  
_Tangled in-between the breeze_  
  
_And love_  
_Leave the past where it lies_  
_Lift your head, fix your eyes_  
_And love, only in time_  
_We will find we’re alive_  
  
_Oh now never done_  
_To the end, overcome_  
_Before we breathe in bold_  
_Every stare, stories told_  
_In the air our echoes heard_  
_Flowing far from where we were_  
  
_And love_  
_Leave the past where it lies_  
_Lift your head, fix your eyes_  
_And love, only in time_  
_We will find we’re alive_  
  
_Breathe in the future, the future_  
_To conquer our fortune_  
_Bring close the moment, the moments_  
_Our gathered and broken_  
  
_And love_  
_Leave the past where it lies_  
_Lift your head, fix your eyes_  
_And love, only in time_  
_We will find we’re alive_

 _We're Alive_ **  
**The Sweeplings  
  
  
**MARGAERY**

 **  
**  
  
The major players were scattered around the living room, except Arya and Gendry who had already taken their pain medication and were sleeping for the night, the Hound sitting vigilantly outside their front door.

 

Margaery sat on the rug at Robb's feet, leaned against his legs and the sofa. Jon was to his right, Grey and his wife Missandei next to him. The leader of the Dothraki gang, Rokahrro, was propped against the wall, beside her brothers who’d claimed the armchair. And Bronn had pulled a chair from the kitchen, turned it backward and straddled it, his arms crossed over the back, all his attention on Dany who stood in front of the fireplace, the Mormont men flanking her sides.

 

Dany took a deep breath as she looked around the room. A small smile crossed her face and even Margaery was anxious to hear what she had to say. “It makes me so happy to see all the people I love in one room,” she started, then the faint light of happiness faded from her eyes. “I know Jeor and Bronn have already talked, but this is easier to say to one group than to have several conversations.” She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor. “A few days ago, several people with good intentions to protect us all attempted to take out Ramsay Bolton and his friends, Locke, and Polliver. His friends died. Ramsay did not.”

 

Her husband shifted uncomfortably behind her, Jon did as well.

 

Robb had been laden with remorse since they found out about Dany's attack, lamenting how stupid they’d been, that they should’ve checked the bodies to make sure. Not even Dany’s words of absolution had silenced his guilt on the matter. And Jon… Margaery didn't think he'd ever forgive himself, the weight of what they'd done hung on his every move and word. Watching him and Dany since they'd emerged from his room that afternoon had been an exercise in self-restraint. All she wanted to do was comfort them, to turn back the clock and erase what had happened, to see their smiling faces again. It broke her heart that she could do none of that.

 

“Ramsay burned down the schoolhouse and attacked me in my home,” Dany continued, her voice shaky as she looked down at her hands. Margaery felt the urge to jump up and hug her, but she remained seated as Dany lifted her head, defiance etched on her face. “Ramsay’s dead, now, as well. The town Sheriff seems to believe that his father might take issue with a woman killing his son. It’s something we have to be prepared to handle.” She looked over at Jeor, then Bronn and nodded for them to take the floor, going to Jon and sitting in his lap.

 

All went quiet, everyone watching the couple share a silent moment as they reconnected, both seeming to breathe easier, a bit of the tension melting out of them.

 

Jeor cleared his throat, drawing eyes to him. “I’ve talked with your man, here,” he began, gesturing to Bronn, “and I believe we’re in a good position to not only help one another but actually have an advantage. As of now, no one knows the force that we have here on this mountain. Our people will keep it that way. Rokahrro’s men will feed themselves. They’re proficient hunters–”

 

“Our wolves roam this mountain,” Jon interjected.

 

Robb turned to Rokahrro. “The wolves are our companions a' sorts. There’s three of em. A white one and two greys, dark and light. We'll do our best to keep em outta your way.”

 

Rokahrro nodded respectfully. “No shooting the wolves.”

 

Jeor rubbed his hands together. “While we're here, waiting, Dany has expressed she’d like to use the manpower at your disposal to help renovate this house, your existing barn, and possibly build a new barn.”

 

Robb shook his head. “We ain’t got the money for all a’ that. Any of it.”

 

“No one asked if you did,” Jeor answered. “It’s not charity. She's family, she deserves the best. And she's made all of you her family, so it’s _best_ if you don’t argue.” He took a deep breath. “Bronn and I have also discussed other raids you two might have concocted in your heads and we're here to strike any of those ideas down. You’ll not do another fool thing like that. Any attack against the Lannisters or those loyal to them will be well orchestrated and manned. If you’d like to come along, we might permit that.”

 

Jon and Robb both took the scolding well, though she had an urge to jump to their defense. She could see Dany wanted to as well, Jon holding her tighter and shaking his head slightly. They'd been furious with them that night, but both knew the brothers had done it from an overwhelming need to protect those they loved most, to get the justice their family deserved for the wrongs that had been committed against them. She also knew, and was certain Dany did as well, that no one would heap more guilt upon either man than they had already burdened themselves with.  

 

Bronn let out a sigh. “No one leaves the mountain alone. At the very least, two, or even more would be better if you go into town. If you get pulled over by the county sheriff, or any of his men, do _everythin’_ they say. Don’t give em a reason to come after ya. At least four people are on guard round the clock. We’ll all take turns.”

 

“We do need a list of people from your town who will be willing to help,” Jeor added. “Extra eyes and ears. If ya know anyone on the inside for the Lannister–”

 

“Tyrion,” Jon piped up. “He won’t actively help us get into the grounds, but he hates his father and his nephew. He’s already given us information about how many we could expect to possibly be with the Lannister group. I also know quite a few willin’ to help us from town.”

 

“Good, we’ll get to work on all of that in the morning,” Jeor said and heaved a sigh. “Jorah will help oversee construction along with Rokharro. We need people who can go down the mountain and get supplies without it looking suspicious.”

 

Garlan raised his hand. “Loras and I can. We don’t actually live here.”

 

Jeor nodded. “Very well. We’ll work with Dany and get you a list of supplies. In the meantime, the Dothraki have agreed to sit watch tonight so everyone on the mountain can get some rest.”

 

Margaery braced herself on Robb’s knee and stood. “I’ll get the extra rooms in order,” she said as she excused herself, refusing help from both Dany and her friend Missandei. She needed the distraction.

 

*~*

 

She straightened the quilt on Rickon’s bed, listening to the voices coming from the other room. She had changed the sheets and pillowcases, pulled out a clean quilt. She’d even put a basin with fresh water in the room for their new guests.

 

The number of people now on the mountain, there to protect her family, was almost staggering. Dany said she had people, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined so many and from so many different races. But then, Tennessee was a far cry from Boston. And Dany had led a vastly different life than they had. Jazz clubs filled with criminals all the time. She didn’t know how Dany had remained as well adjusted as she appeared to be.

 

She stopped at seeing one of Rickon’s little shirts sticking from beneath the bed and frowned. She missed him so much. Her heart hurt, her throat tightening with the thought of it. She held it up and smiled, noticing a brown stain. Knowing the wild little boy as she did, she knew it could be any number of things. She took an indulgent sniff and nearly cried. It smelled of pine, dirt, and dog. Oh, how she missed those boys. It had only been a few days but already she felt as if there was a great hole in her life where they had been.

 

She left Rickon’s room and went into Bran’s, doing the same thing–changing out the sheets, fluffing the pillows, putting fresh water in the basin. She missed the sight of his chair where it would be pushed back against the wall at night. She ran her finger over the spines of the books that sat on a bookshelf in the corner, on the verge of tears. A pair of hands settled on her shoulders and she jumped, turning to see Robb. She immediately went into his arms, burying her face in his neck.

 

“I miss them,” she muttered.

 

He nodded. “I know. I do, too.” He led her out of the room and she tugged him toward their bedroom instead of the living room where everyone else was still congregated. “You alright?” he asked.

 

She shook her head. “How much more can we take?”

 

Robb looked down at their joined hands and sighed. “I’m too ‘fraid to ask that question. But...seems like we got better odds than we had before.”

 

Margaery leaned her head against his shoulder. “How are we gonna feed all these people? Sure the Dothraki are going to hunt, but what about the others?”

 

“I don’t know. But we’ll think of somethin’.” He cupped her face and pressed a kiss to her lips. “What can I do to help ya?”

 

She shrugged. “I got both the bedrooms ready. How’s the barn?”

 

“Full. But they brought blankets and things with them. Looks like quite a few are gonna sleep in those little houses on their trucks.”

 

“How many?”

 

“Forty-seven.”

 

Her eyes widened. “Robb...”

 

“I know. But like I said, we’ll figure something out,” he said as he kissed her nose. She leaned into him, exhaustion screaming through her veins. “You talk to Arya today?”

 

She pulled back and looked up at him. “Briefly. She spent most of the time while I was changing her bandages complaining about the stupidity of her brothers and how she doesn’t want to see either of you until she feels like she’s not going to shoot you both.” She smiled at him. “So, I’d steer clear of her.”

 

He shook his head. “You tell her ‘bout Dany?”

 

She nodded and frowned. “Like I said, steer clear,” she whispered.

 

“All our fault.”

 

“Stop. Dany doesn’t blame you. You don’t get to blame you, either. Now come on, we've got a house full of people. Let’s get to know them.”

 

Robb placed a kiss on her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

*~*

 

She balanced the breakfast tray as she walked, watching all the newcomers making repairs on the barn and the main house. Dany had sent an order into town with Garlan and Loras for supplies from Tormund and the ginger man and her brothers had come back with three truckloads full of lumber and tools. It appeared Dany’s people were more than willing to do whatever she wanted or needed. Sometime in the future, Margaery would sit down with her find out exactly what sort of power she truly had in Boston.

 

She handed a biscuit to the Hound as she passed him going into Arya and Gendry’s. She could hear them talking and knocked on their bedroom door before she was bid to enter. She found Arya kneeling on the chair in the corner, watching the construction through the window. The swelling around Gendry’s eyes was lessening. He had looked her way and she saw the pretty blue, even if the whites still had a bloody tone. She smiled at both of them. “Good morning.”

 

Arya glanced at her then went back to looking out the curtains. “How many are there?” she asked.

 

“Robb said forty-seven.”

 

Gendry heaved out a breath, still looking her way. “Can you get the Hound?”

 

“Why?” Arya questioned, losing interest in the happenings outside and turning her full attention to her husband.

 

“I want to sit up a bit and I don’t want neither of ya strainin’ yourself.”

 

Margaery put the tray of food down on their dresser and moved to the door to find the Hound gone but Robb walking toward her. “It’s like you could read my mind.”

 

He smirked and stepped onto the porch. “I heard you took the biscuits with ya.”

 

She chuckled. “I did. But I need help with Gendry.”

 

His face grew concerned. “He alright?”

 

She nodded and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “He’s fine. He wants to sit up a bit.”

 

Robb followed her into the bedroom and she noticed Arya turn away from her brother the second he entered. Robb and Gendry worked together to get him seated against the headboard, with no small amount of groans. “Thanks,” he told Robb with a sigh. “What’s happenin’?”

 

Robb shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well, Dany ordered a shit ton of lumber and tools and her people are not only helping to insulate the main house, and repairing the old barn, they're also building a new one. _And_ she and Jon are looking over the property to find a good place for...” he smiled brightly, “their house.”

 

Arya’s head whipped around to look at him. “But he ain’t asked her yet.”

 

Margaery grinned. “Dany’s not exactly one to wait on someone else to make decisions that concern her life.”

 

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Gendry said with a smirk as he looked at Arya.

 

“Right, but at least when I make a promise I keep it.”

 

Robb rolled his eyes at her dig, sighing as he turned to Margaery. “Biscuits?”

 

She handed him one and he promptly left. She settled the tray on the bed and Gendry adjusted just a little. Arya stayed at the window watching the work that was happening. “Arya, do you want me to change your bandages now or after you eat?”

 

She heaved a sigh and looked at Margaery. “Now, get it over with,” she said as she walked back to the bed and sat facing Gendry. Margaery brought the black bag over and placed it on the bed beside them. Arya lifted the back of her gown up and Margaery went to work on the separate bandages that covered her back. She cleaned each one, applied the ointment, then taped gauze back over the ones that still needed it. “You should have Sam look at these when he comes tonight. I think you’d be good with only a few being covered.”

 

When she was finished, Arya dropped the gown back in place. Margaery cleaned up the dirty gauze until Arya’s voice stopped her. “If...if I wanted to take a bath later...could you help me?”

 

Margaery gave her a nod. “I’d be glad to. Eat first,” she said with a smile.

 

“Thanks,” Arya muttered at her back as she left the room.

 

*~*

 

Arya was laid back in the tub when Margaery entered with clean clothes. “Water still warm?”

 

She nodded, giving a satisfied groan. “Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

 

Margaery put the clean towels into the little closet. “How are you feeling overall? A lot of pain still?”

 

She sighed. “Hurts sometimes. I-I keep havin’ nightmares.”

 

She turned to look at her, sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I wish I could make them stop.”

 

Arya closed her eyes and heaved out a breath. “Is it all a’ act?”

 

Margaery tilted her head and frowned. “What?”

 

“The niceness? I mean, do you actually care ‘bout us or is this all just ta show Robb that you’re sorry?”

 

She felt her temper rise and usually she bit it back because she was scared of Arya, but her nerves were too fried and there wasn’t much she could do to her at this point. “You still think so little of me? You think I would wish this on you?”

 

Arya cut her eyes at her as she sat up with a huff. “No. But I don’t buy this lovin’ shit neither. You and I have never gotten along.”

 

“Because you didn’t want to! I've never been anything but nice to you.”

 

“Oh, what about all those times you talked ‘bout me behind my back to Sansa–”

 

“I didn’t do that! If your sister did, that’s between you two. I’ve known you since you were a baby. Why do you think I would dislike you or talk bad about you?”

 

“Cause you’re like her! You like pretty, girly things and y’all always made me feel left out!”

 

Margaery sank down onto the stool beside the tub, shaking her head. All the years she had felt snubbed by Arya… to find out she had felt the same from her. She knew how much she disliked it and knew if she was saying something about it, even after all these years, that it had obviously hurt her, too. “Arya, I never meant to leave you out. If I did, I'm truly sorry. I thought you didn’t like being around us and preferred your brothers. And then once Robb and I were together...you got...nastier.”

 

“I thought you was tryin’ to take him away,” she admitted, her arms now wrapped around herself, as if to shield her from the conversation.

 

“I wasn’t. I love Robb. After all the...hurt I reaped on him, he still loves me. I don’t know why or how, but he does. And I love him. With all my heart. Even...even when I walked away, it wasn’t because I didn’t love him. I was stupid and made a huge mistake.”

 

Arya shrugged. “Guess I don’t understand. I love Gendry. Nothin’ has ever been important enough to tear me away.”

 

Margaery ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. “I suppose I wasn’t as strong as you, Arya. I wasn’t. I was scared and I ran. It’s a decision I regret every day and one I can’t apologize to Robb for enough. I’ll never feel like I’ve made amends. He’s been the one for me since the day I met him and I ran,” she whispered. “I hate it. I hate that I did it and hurt him.”

 

Arya sighed. “Part a' the reason I hadn’t been nice to ya lately is...the day you married Joffrey...I found Robb, layin’ drunk in the woods and he asked me why he wasn’t enough.” She shook her head and looked at the water. “And I didn’t know what ta say. He had a broken heart and I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t make ya come back and help him, and I hated you for that.”

 

Margaery looked down at her hands, pressing her lips tight between her teeth as she took a steadying breath. “I hate myself for it. I hate that he suffered and that I caused it.” She swiped at the tears rolling down her face. “But I’m here now, and I love your brother.  I’m gonna have his baby, and I’m not going to let you take all your anger out on me anymore. I can’t.”

 

Arya was silent for a moment, both of them allowing the words to hang between them. “I’ll try ta be nicer.”

 

Margaery took a deep breath. “I’d appreciate that. With that thought in mind, you need to ease up on Robb and Jon.”

 

“I ain’t ready to forgive em, yet.”

 

“You don’t know what’s going to happen, Arya. We hope things are going to work out the way we want them to, but last week should tell you none of us know how long we have here, or with each other. If the worst happens…” She had to take a moment, the horrible thought of losing any of them stealing her breath. “It doesn’t do anyone any favors to be angry. Dany’s not.”

 

“Shouldn’t she be?” Arya sneered. “They went after em, provoked him, and she nearly died.”

 

“What sparked your attack?” she countered. “Did you know Alliser Thorne pulled Jon over and beat him four days before you were attacked? Who made that one happen?” She shook her head at Arya's scowl. “I was with your brothers after your attack. Those two men were so broken, I've never seen them more upset because they believed they failed you.” She twisted the hem of her apron in her hands. “Don’t let them think that, Arya. Both of them work too hard and still blame themselves for everything. They don’t need you hanging it on them, too.”

 

Arya turned away and Margaery realized she was wiping away tears. “They’re so stupid. Jon promised he wouldn’t...”

 

“I know. Robb promised me, too. I was just as angry for a time, but you can only push a man so far before he has to push back. And when it came to Ramsay, Jon was on a razor's edge.”

 

She wiped her face some more and shook her head. “Part a me knew. I knew Jon would do that. I saw it in the clinic. Saw it on his face when he saw...that they took my clothes.” She hung her head. “I begged him not to do anythin’. Dany thought she could get him not to...”

 

“Razor's edge, Arya. You were walking it before. None of us knew when you were going to take your knife and cut the lot of them.”

 

“I should have. Maybe Gendry wouldn’t be layin’ in there hurt as he is.”

 

“Or maybe Jon and Robb would’ve had to dig a hole next to your parents for you. It's time to leave the past where it lies, we have to fix our eyes on what's ahead, not behind us.”

 

She sighed and shifted in the tub to stand. Margaery reached to help her, but when she shook her head she let her do it. She held out a towel for her once she was upright and held her hand as she stepped over the rim. Arya quickly dried off and Margaery helped her dress in a new gown and clean drawers. “Thank you. For helpin’. I know I’ve been nasty to ya...”

 

Margaery straightened and handed her crutch over. “Good thing I’m used to it by now,” she said, giving her a small smile.

 

Arya smirked. “Yeah. Still, though...”

 

She saw Arya back into bed where Gendry was sleeping. She handed her the medicine that Sam had left for her and she took it as well as a glass of water. Margaery walked to the door and closed it behind her. She found Robb on the porch, shotgun propped across his lap. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Hound is using our bathroom since you and Arya were in this one.” He propped the gun against the house and pulled her to sit in his lap, his lips pressing against her pulse in her throat. “How’s Arya?”

 

“She’s doing better. Bruises are fading. Gendry’s improving, too. I’d like to get him out of the bed and change their sheets but we can do that tomorrow.”

 

“I hate moving him,” he said with a shake of his head. “He’s been through enough pain.”

 

She nodded and threaded her fingers through his curls. “The new barn is really coming along.”

 

He leaned his head against her shoulder, his arms holding her tight. “I can’t wait for the boys to see it. They’ll be shocked.”

 

She chuckled. “Just another place for Rickon to get dirty. I miss his ability to get into trouble.”

 

Robb chuffed. “And him telling us how he managed to stay out of trouble is cause we were gonna whoop him.”

 

Margaery tilted his mouth up to hers for a kiss. “Hopefully Bronn and Mister Mormont come up with a steady plan in the next few days and this can all be over with.”

 

He nodded. “I think, though, that you and I should go visit the boys.”

 

“I’d like that.”

 

The Hound crossed the yard. She stood from Robb's lap. “Did you get some supper?”

 

“Yes ma’am,” he said as she and Robb moved, allowing him to take his place in the rocking chair. “Appreciate you botherin’ what with all the other mouths ya gotta feed.” He wasn’t looking at her, but she understood it was probably difficult for him to take kindness. Most people were afraid of him and avoided him because of it.

 

“I’m more than happy to help those who help us,” she said. “Make sure you sleep in the morning.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” he said again.

 

Robb wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they walked back to their home. “I heard you and Arya talkin’. She wasn’t mean ta ya, again, was she?”

 

She shook her head. “I think Arya and I have come to an accord,” she said as she stepped onto the porch where Garlan and Grey sat, both armed. She placed a kiss on her brother’s cheek before they walked into the house.

 

Robb had his hand on her bottom as he led her to their bedroom. He closed the door behind them. She couldn’t help but smile as he started undressing her. She put her hands on her hips as she watched his fingers undo each button. “Mister Stark, that’s rather forward.”

 

He smirked. “Is it? ‘Fraid I was bein’ too subtle,” he teased.

 

She linked her arms around his neck and held him close. “I’ll never accuse you of being subtle,” she said with a smile. He pulled her arms back and slipped her dress off her shoulders as she leaned up and kissed him. His hands slid around her waist then up to the straps of her slip. It was soon pushed to the floor as well.

 

He groaned against her mouth. “Why do ya got so many layers of clothes on?” He undid her bra as she laughed. “It ain’t funny.”

 

“It’s very funny,” she whispered as she pressed her lips to his. “You’re still dressed.”

 

He shrugged out of the knit cardigan, shoved his suspenders off his shoulders, and tugged his shirt over his head. She finally removed her brassiere and slipped out of her stockings and drawers as he kicked off his boots. He tugged her onto the bed with him, his arms wrapped around her as they kissed, hitching her leg over his hips then trailing his hand between them. She bit back a moan as his thumb traced over the seam of her while his lips and teeth nipped at the pulse in her throat.

 

His erection was pressed against her belly and she lay within the circle of his arms, taking in his strength wrapped around her. She knew how lucky she was to have him and the thought that she might lose him terrified her. She tightened her arms around him.

 

Her breath caught as he slipped a finger inside her, rubbing the heel of his hand against her clit. She bit at his lips, shivering as he worked her slowly, his mouth moving along her throat and down to her breasts. The scruff of his beard felt heavenly against her skin, feeling more sensitized to his touch. She curled her fingers in his hair, her hips rocking against his fingers. He had her almost at the edge and just as she was panting his name, nearly there, he removed his hand and she buried a frustrated groan in his shoulder.

 

He rolled to his back, tugging her along with him. His hands grasped at her thighs, hips, and ass as she took him in hand and rubbed him through her wet cunt. When his hands cupped her breasts, she slid his cock inside her, a shiver sliding down her spine at being filled. He moaned a bit too loud, and she clamped a hand over his mouth as she started moving. She gripped the headboard, using it for leverage, working her hips against his, grinding down on top of him. His blunt fingernails dragged over her sides down to her hips, hands holding her still as he pressed his feet to the mattress and thrust, taking her with a frenzy.

 

She was building closer again, harder this time and she was prepared to hit him if he pulled her away from the edge again. Robb loved to tease, to make her nearly insane with want. And when he’d finally let her climax she was always grasping and grateful. She loved and hated it.

 

His mouth found the tip of her breast, and while it still ached, it sent her head spinning to feel his lips on her.

 

She pushed her hands onto his chest, holding herself up, the tension building, her thighs quivering as she grew closer and closer until she finally fell, kissing him hard as she moaned into his mouth. Her body was still shaking with her release as he finished and they lay panting in one another’s arms. Several minutes passed, gentle touches and kisses had before she even considered moving out of his arms.

 

Shivering again, this time from the chill in the room, she rose from the bed and went to the basin to clean herself.

 

He came up and stood behind her, pressing his lips to her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Ya know, I don’t know what I did to deserve ya, but I wish I knew so I could keep doin’ it. Wanna keep ya like this forever,” he said softly.

 

She turned in his arms and kissed him. “I love you, Robb Stark.”

 

He smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you, Margaery Stark.”

 

She chuckled and shook her head. “That...feels so good to hear. Margaery Stark. I used to write it in all of my school books, did you know? The old schoolmarm used to make me stay after near the end of the year to erase them all. I was always sneaky enough, though, to write it, at least once, on the inside margin. _I love Robb Stark_.”

 

He smiled. “I carved it under my desk. And in some trees where we went huntin’. And on the underside of the swing. _Robb Stark loves Margaery Tyrell._ ” He kissed her again. “Always have. Always will.”

 

“Always.”

 

*~*

 

Robb was helping her with the dishes from breakfast when a car pulled up the hill the next morning. She smiled to see her grandmother and went to the door to hold it open for her. Olenna reached up and placed a kiss on her cheek then eyed her closely. “You look pale and tired.”

 

Margaery heaved a deep breath. “Thank you. It’s lovely to see you, too.”

 

“I meant that more at Robb for letting you run yourself so hard.”

 

He shook his head, drying his hands off on a towel. “You know your granddaughter. I can’t make her stop any more than you can.”

 

Olenna took a seat at the table and Robb placed a cup of tea in front of her, then directed Margaery to a chair. “Sit and enjoy your grandmother’s company. Everything else can wait,” he said as he took the tray. “I’m runnin’ this to Arya and Gendry. I’ll be back.”

 

She watched him go then turned to her grandmother.

 

“Tell me you aren’t cooking for all of these people,” Olenna grumbled.

 

She shook her head. “No. The ones staying in the barn are feeding themselves. They’re sending hunters into the woods, free to hunt everything but the wolves.”

 

“Dear Lord,” she said with a shake of her head. “Still, I’ll have more food sent. And all the construction?”

 

“They’re insulating this house better, building a new barn, and Dany is looking for somewhere on the land to build a house.”

 

Olenna smiled. “I like that girl. She certainly doesn’t wait for anyone to give her permission to do something, does she?”

 

“No.”

 

“How is she?” she asked and took a sip of tea.

 

Margaery heaved a deep breath. “She’s...guarded. I’m certain she’s only showing how she’s doing to Jon, putting on a brave face for everyone else.”

 

Olenna frowned. “I’ve heard that Roose is demanding Davos arrest her for murder.”

 

“What!?” she nearly screamed, outraged at such a suggestion. “Ramsay attacked her in her own home! Grandmother! He can't do that!”

 

Olenna patted her arm. “I said he was demanding. I didn’t say Davos was going to do it. And they can’t use Alliser because it happened within city limits and Ramsay burned down the schoolhouse. The people would actually revolt if he went through with it.”

 

Margaery huffed out a breath and sat back in her chair. “I’m so glad he’s dead.”

 

“Aren’t we all?” She took another sip of tea. “What about the others? Tell me that hired gun I’ve been paying is working something out with all the manpower now at your disposal.”

 

“Attempting to.”

 

The screen door opened and Jeor and Jon entered. Jon gave Margaery a small smile and a nod at Olenna. “Ladies,” he said in greeting. “Jeor Mormont this is Olenna Tyrell, Margaery’s grandmother. Jeor is an old friend of Dany’s family.”

 

Jeor placed a kiss on the back of Olenna’s offered hand. “Pleasure.”

 

She gave him a smile. “It might have been, years ago.”

 

Margaery’s eyes widened as she looked at a stunned Jon. Jeor laughed, turning his attention to Jon. “Coffee?”

 

“Right,” he said as he walked over to the pot and poured him a mug. Jeor took it and held it up to Olenna, then turned around and left the kitchen. Jon followed quickly, both going outside again.

 

Margaery tapped her grandmother’s hand gently. “That was rather naughty of you.”

 

Olenna nodded and smiled before she sipped her tea. “I know dear. That’s why it was fun.”

 

*~*

 

They pulled up in front of the Tarly house late that afternoon. The door opened immediately and Rickon was down the stairs before she had her car door opened. He wrapped his arms around her waist in a firm hug and smiled up at her. “I told Sansa it was you!”

 

Margaery dropped down into a crouch and lifted him into her arms. “Oh, my sweet boy! I missed you!”

 

“Are ya here to take us home?” he asked, hope shining in his bright blue eyes.

 

It broke her heart but Robb had approached and ruffled his hair, saving her from having to answer. “Not yet. But soon.”

 

Sansa walked down the stairs and Robb took Rickon from Margaery as the two women embraced. “You look lovely,” Sansa said as she pulled back and escorted them into the house.

 

“That’s much nicer than your grandmother’s ‘you look pale and tired’,” Robb declared.

 

Margaery rolled her eyes. “That was a jab at you as much as me.”

 

He nodded. “I know.”

 

“Where’s Bran?” Margaery asked.

 

Sansa smiled. “Oh, let me show you,” she said slyly, leading Margaery to a window that looked out at the lake in the back. Dickon’s sister, Talla, was seated on the ground, book in hand, reading out loud to a reclining Bran. “They’ve been difficult to separate.”

 

Robb stepped up behind them and chuckled slightly.

 

“Sansa’s been showin’ me how to do my numbers!” Rickon announced, drawing their attention back to him. “Bushels of numbers.”

 

Margaery turned and rubbed her hand over his cheek. “I know that you’re probably already very good at it. Dany said you were one of the smartest in her class.”

 

He smiled at that. “I can’t wait to come home so I can go back ta school.” The look on Rickon’s face turned sour. “Why ya lookin’ like that?” he asked them and she knew that neither of them had hidden their downturned expressions.

 

Robb put him on his feet and took his hand. “Let’s go see Bran. Tell ya both together,” he said.

 

He opened the door and Sansa looped her arm through Margaery’s. “What happened?” she whispered.

 

“Ramsay attacked Dany.” Sansa was properly aghast. “He burned down the schoolhouse, tried to rape her. She killed him,” she told her as they walked slowly behind Robb and Rickon.

 

“Is she alright?”

 

“As well as she can be. Her people arrived so she’s been occupied with them. Don’t know how much time she’s actually had to think on it.”

 

Sansa shook her head. “Rickon will be devastated. All he’s talked about is going back to school with her.”

 

“She’s been staying on the mountain on a regular basis, now. A lot of people are there.”

 

“What’s a lot?”

 

“Over forty. The Hound has camped out at Arya and Gendry’s. Dany’s people are not only building a new barn,” she said with a slight smile, “but they’re making repairs to the main house. And she’s managing it all,” she said with a shake of her head.

 

They finally reached Bran and Margaery knelt down beside him and gave him a long hug. “I’ve missed you,” she said as she ran a hand over his hair.

 

“Missed you, too.”

 

Rickon tugged on Robb. “What happened?”

 

He took a deep breath and frowned. “The schoolhouse burned down,” he said gently, pulling Rickon to sit in his lap.

 

“On purpose?” Rickon asked after a minute.

 

Robb nodded. “Yeah, I'm ‘fraid so.”

 

“Was it that bad man who was there before? The one who kilt my lizard?”

 

Margaery held his hand in hers and nodded. “Yes.”

 

Rickon pulled his hand from hers and stomped away from them. Robb stood and followed him. She watched as he finally caught up to the little boy and lifted him in his arms as he cried.

 

Her throat tightened to see him so upset. She turned her attention back to Bran. “How are you?”

 

He gave her a small smile. “I’m alright. How's Dany? She alright?”

 

“That girl is a fighter.”

 

He nodded. “She’d have ta be ta get Jon outta his own head. How’re you? And the baby?”

 

She put her hand over her belly, barely a bump to even acknowledge other than it was straining her drawers and garter belts. “We’re fine. Dany did manage to find your dragon in the ruins. It’s on the table by their bed.”

 

Bran looked over at Sansa and Talla as they talked away from them. Margaery glanced over her shoulder and back at Bran. “You know, Robb and I were about your age when we started thinking about one another as more than just friends. Of course, I knew I loved Robb when I was ten, but I didn’t know what that meant until I was a bit older.”

 

Bran blushed and looked down at the quilt he was sitting on. “Don’t matter. I’m a cripple and–”

 

“ _That_ doesn't matter,” she said with a slight smile. “Your heart wants what it wants.”

 

He looked out at the lake. “My heart, right now, just wants my family safe and sound. I’ll...worry ‘bout all that other stuff when I get older.”

 

She nodded. “As long as you don’t rule it out, Bran. The right girl’s going to love you no matter what.”

 

He smiled as Robb and Rickon rejoined them. Rickon crawled into her lap and she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Are you alright?”

 

He nodded. “Robb says I will be.”

 

She chuckled. “You should listen to him. He’s right. Have you been good for Sansa and Dickon?”

 

He nodded. “He made me a slingshot.”

 

Robb looked at him wearily. “And what have you _shot_ with it.”

 

“Only himself,” Bran said with a laugh.

 

“You said you wouldn’t tell!” Rickon hollered, looking at his brother in outrage.

 

“It was funny!” Bran said, laughing, which eventually had Robb and even Rickon laughing as well.

 

She squeezed Rickon tighter. “I miss you and your giggles.”

 

“I miss your songs. Sansa don’t know as many as you and Miss Dany.”

 

“But she’s treating you well, isn’t she?” Margaery reminded.

 

He nodded. “She lets me play the piano.”

 

Bran nodded and sighed. “She does.”

 

“How long does that last?”

 

“Five whole minutes!” Rickon exclaimed. “Sansa says I’m a natural.”

 

“Five minutes?” Robb questioned, a cheeky smile on his face. “I bet it sounds _lovely_.”

 

Rickon shook his head. “It’s bad! But it’s loud and fun!”

 

Margaery chuckled. “And how are you getting along with Dickon?”

 

He nodded. “He’s nice. We fish and he lets me ride on the tractor with him sometimes. But _only_ if I been mindin’ Sansa all day. He’s been helpin’ Bran with his whittlin’.”

 

“Sounds like you two are having a great time.”

 

Bran nodded and looked up at Robb. “It’s still not home.”

 

Robb frowned. “No, but we hope that’s gonna be solved real soon.”

 

“Good cause Shaggydog and I want my bed back. And I miss Arya and Gendry, too.”

 

“How is Gendry?” Bran asked.

 

“Better. And Arya is starting to get around better, too.”

 

“Good,” Rickon said. “You tell em I miss em and I’m ready for her ta keep showin’ me how ta shoot her gun.”

 

“Say what?” Margaery asked and Rickon immediately put his hand over his mouth.

 

Bran rolled his eyes. “That was a secret,” he chastised.

 

Rickon wrinkled his nose. “I forgot!”

 

Robb shared a look with Margaery, both not surprised at all Arya did it behind their backs, nor with Rickon’s inability to keep quiet about it. “We’ll be sure to tell her you miss it.”

 

Margaery snuggled Rickon a little tighter. “I don’t want you playin’ with guns.”

 

“She made us promise only her gun cause it was little.”

 

Robb heaved a sigh. “Still, you don’t touch one unless we’re around.”

 

Rickon nodded. “I won’t.”

 

“Anything else you haven’t told us?”

 

Rickon was quiet for a moment and shook his head. “That’s all the secrets I know.”

 

Margaery laughed. “Oh, sweet boy, don’t ever change.”

 

*~*

 

They had promised the others they would be back before it was dark. Saying goodbye this time seemed just as hard as the last. She sat on the top step of Sansa’s porch, holding Rickon tight. He was patting her hair even as she pulled away. “You’re gonna come get us soon, right?”

 

She nodded, holding back the tears. “We might bring a whole army of people to get you. Jon, Dany, Arya, Gendry if he’s up to it. Mister Bronn. Maybe even my own brothers.”

 

Rickon smiled and wiped away her tear. “Can you sing me one song ‘fore you go?”

 

She pulled him into her arms. “Of course I can. Your brother, Robb, can wait,” she said as she tucked him across her lap, his head resting on her shoulder.

 

 _Baby mine, don't you cry_  
_Baby mine, dry your eyes_  
_Rest your head close to my heart_  
_Never to part_  
_Baby of mine_

 _Little one, when you play_  
_Don't you mind what they say_  
_Let those eyes sparkle and shine_  
_Never a tear_  
_Baby of mine_

 _If they knew sweet little you_  
_They'd end up loving you too_  
_All of those people who scold you_  
_What they'd give just for the right to hold you_

 _From your head, down to your toes_  
_You're not much, goodness knows_  
_But you're so precious to me_  
_Sweet as can be_  
_Baby of mine_ _  
Baby of mine_

 

When she finished Rickon looked up at her and gave her a smile. “I’m kinda like your baby, ain't I?”

 

She nodded and rubbed her nose against his. “I feel like it,” she whispered. “Been holding and singing to you since you were born.”

 

He played with her wedding ring. “Will you come back to visit again?”

 

“There’s not a power on this earth, Rickon Stark, to keep me from you,” she said against his hair.

 

He nodded and stood from her arms. He placed a kiss on her cheek and shuffled into the house. Robb helped her stand and she walked over to Bran and kissed the top of his head. “From you either, Bran.”

 

His smile faded. “Be careful.”

 

Robb nodded. “We will. I promise, as soon as we can, you’re comin’ home.”

 

Bran nodded back. “I know. You’re like Pa. You always try to keep your word, even if it’d be easier not to.”

 

Robb kissed the top of his head and crouched down beside him. “Maybe you should make somethin’ for Talla.”

 

Bran blushed. “I am,” he whispered. “Just, don’t make me feel strange ‘bout it.”

 

“You mean tease ya?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He smiled. “I won’t.” He stood up straight. “I’ll do what we all do: let Arya do it.”

 

Bran rolled his eyes. “I think I’d prefer you.”

 

“Nope. You told me not to. Gonna honor your wishes,” he said with a smirk. “Good luck.” Robb winked and took Margaery’s hand as Bran rolled back into the house. Sansa came down to the car and handed Robb an envelope. “This is to match what the rest of you put in for Jon. He’s gonna be stubborn about it.”

 

“When isn’t he stubborn?” Robb questioned and tucked the money into his jacket pocket.

 

Margaery leaned over and hugged her. “I wish you lived closer,” Sansa lamented. “Then we could visit more often.”

 

“At this point, I’m glad you live far enough away that it would be a hassle for someone to come out here,” Margaery told her.

 

“The Tarlys are a big family in these parts. Would be a bad idea to make an enemy of them in this town.”

 

Dickon stepped around the house then and wiped his hands off on his trousers. “Sorry I missed your visit. Been out in the field with the workers. Finally got that last bale up on a truck,” he said as he extended his hand to Robb and placed a chaste kiss on Margaery’s hand. “Everything alright?”

 

“Sansa can fill ya in on the details. Looks like it might all be comin’ to a head sooner than later, though.”

 

Dickon nodded. “All of you be careful. Sansa’s been fretting about all of it as it is. The boys are well behaved and that little one is...funny,” he said with a chuckle.

 

Margaery nodded. “He is. Thank you for taking them into your home.”

 

“Sansa was nice enough to let my sister live with us when my parents passed. I think Talla likes having them around, too.”

 

Sansa smirked. “Especially Bran.”

 

“Stop that,” Dickon said, nudging her with his elbow. “If you need anything...”

 

“You’re doing more than enough,” Robb said holding out his hand and shaking Dickon's.

“Thank you.”

 

Robb helped Margaery into the car. He placed a kiss on Sansa’s cheek then walked around and climbed in the driver’s side. Rickon was standing on the porch waving as they drove away and Margaery moved closer to Robb, needing his comfort and strength.

 

*~*

 

They found Jon and Dany at Gendry and Arya’s house when they returned. Gendry was sitting up in a chair in the kitchen. Margaery smiled at this development. “It’s so good to see you out of bed,” she said as she gingerly placed a kiss on top of his head.

 

“Good to be out of bed,” he answered, smiling as much as his swollen face would let him.

 

“How are the boys?” Dany asked from her perch on Jon’s lap.

 

Margaery sighed and sat in the empty chair. “They’re good. Sansa lets Rickon have ‘piano time’.”

 

Dany winced. “Do I want to know how horrible that is?”

 

“Bran said it’s five minutes of him banging on the keys,” Robb said as he put his hands on Margaery’s shoulders. “And Bran has made a friend,” he added with a smirk.

 

Margaery smacked his hand and gave him a withering look. “You said you wouldn’t poke fun.”

 

“To his face. Talla Tarly is leaving quite the impression on Bran.”

 

Arya grinned. “Oh, is she?”

 

Margaery chuckled. “Oh, now you’ve done it.”

 

He laughed. “I think Arya should be more worried about the fact that Rickon spilled the beans ‘bout her lettin’ him shoot her gun.”

 

Jon and Dany both looked at her in concern. “You did what?” Jon demanded.

 

“He’s _six_ ,” Dany said, aghast.

 

Arya shrugged. “Rickon and Bran was both feelin’ helpless after the raid. Bran asked and Rickon was with him and I told them they could only shoot my gun, _with me_ , at empty cans. You were both Rickon’s age when Pa showed you.”

 

“How do you know?” Jon asked.

 

“You forget that Pa and I had a year to talk ‘bout ya while you was gone. But either way, it helped em.”

 

Gendry sighed. “And her. Distracted her for a bit. She was able to get out some of her aggression.”

 

Arya reached over and took his good hand and Margaery looked around the table with a sigh. “Any word from Bronn or Mister Mormont about a plan of action?”

 

Jon nodded. “Formations of one. Bronn is ready to see some justice doled out, Mormont is expressing caution and to take our time.”

 

“Feels easy to say when he doesn’t have Rickon in his lap asking for songs and begging to come home,” Margaery lamented.

 

“Or an insane man’s father asking for you to be thrown in jail for murder?” Dany said softly.

 

“Or wanting retribution against the fuckers that nearly killed you and made your wife watch,” Gendry added and they all grew silent.

 

Daenerys leaned her head against Jon’s. “I’ll work on it.”

 

The Hound came out from the back bedroom and shuffled through to the coffee. He left out onto the porch without a word to any of them. Gendry frowned and looked at Arya. “How long’s he gonna live here?” he whispered.

 

“Til he kills his brother. Said then he’d fuck off back to his place,” Arya answered.

 

Gendry looked at Robb and Jon. “Think y'all can help me back in the bedroom?”

 

They both jumped up and helped him stand, Arya followed close behind as they walked him into their room. Dany wandered to the front door and Margaery stood, leaving the house with her, giving the Hound a wave as they crossed to the main house.

 

“How are you?” Margaery asked.

 

“I’m fine,” Dany responded quickly, continuing to stare straight ahead.

 

When they got inside the house, Margaery looked around for anyone else before taking Dany's arm in a gentle grasp. “Are you? Really?”

 

Dany frowned. “Considering what could’ve happened...”

 

“Considering what _did_ happen. You and I are alike enough that we wouldn't show others how much we’re hurting even if we were dying inside. It’s...we _endure_.”

 

She shrugged. “I’m...staying busy so I don’t think about it.”

 

“And what happens when you’re no longer busy?”

 

Dany looked out the window. “By then, hopefully, it stops hurting, and I don’t feel like I’m dirty all the time. Don’t flinch every time I feel someone walk up behind me. Don’t feel like my lungs are collapsing when I smell something burning,” she whispered. “I fight it off until I can’t feel any of it anymore because if I show any of it to anyone...I’ll feel their pity and that’s almost as bad as the pain.”

 

Margaery hugged her and felt Dany take a shaky breath. “It isn’t pity. It’s genuine concern and care.”

 

She took a deep breath and pulled away. “I’m alright. I have Jon. I have this family. I’ve...suffered worse and survived.”

 

Margaery nodded. “Just know that if you ever just need to scream I’m here for you.”

 

Dany gave her a small smile and nodded. “I’m sure, at some point, that time will come. The boys? They’re good?” she asked, changing the subject quickly.

 

Margaery nodded. “Yes. Sad to see us go, but Rickon is getting tractor rides and plenty of attention from Sansa and Dickon. And Bran is enamored with Talla.”

 

Dany shook her head. “He’s such a sweet boy. Both of them. My heart hurts every time I walk past their rooms.”

 

“Mine, too,” she said, grasping Dany’s hand. “Rickon had me sing to him. Said Sansa doesn’t know as many songs as you and I.”

 

She smiled a bit at that. “I miss him sneaking into our bed. Did he do that a lot in the past?”

 

Margaery put the kettle on as Dany took a seat the table. “No. It was the raid, I’m sure.” She looked over her shoulder at her. “Seeing Jon get hurt like that, after everything else they did, I don’t think he could take it. Not to mention that Jon is closer to him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Robb, just that Jon had this connection with him from the first time they met. It was like something clicked.”

 

“How old was Rickon?”

 

Margaery leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “Six months old, maybe? Sansa and Arya had really stepped up since their mother died, and I was here all the time because I missed Robb and wanted to be around things that reminded me of him. When their Pa was killed, they...were devastated. Howland Reed came up and helped them make arrangements and that left me watching over Rickon. They grieved hard, especially Arya,” she said softly. “She and her father were really close. Would hardly speak to either of us. We’d just sometimes find her in the room, holding Rickon, telling him stories about Ned. That was around the time that Sansa started being nicer to Arya.”

 

The kettle whistled and she poured them both tea. “The town had a big fanfare when they returned from the war. They had both received medals for their service, but Jon was his normal dour self and hated all the recognition. When they finally got home, though, and met Rickon, he smiled. He held him and Rickon pressed his face into Jon’s shoulder and you could just see some of it disappear. I think he couldn't help but feel for Rickon, being without his Mama. They're the same that way.”

 

Dany smiled as she looked down at her cup. “Rickon told Jon he needed to marry me so I could stay here all the time.”

 

Margaery’s eyes widened. “That boy,” she said, chuckling.

 

Dany laughed as well. “I know. A mischievous little imp.”

 

“What did Jon say?”

 

“I didn’t hear all of it. Just that he wanted to ‘ask me proper’.”

 

Margaery sipped her peppermint tea, thinking of the surprise they had for Jon. “And what will your answer be?”

 

Dany smirked. “We both know the _answer_ to that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hoped you like that chapter. Arya and Gendry are next.


	26. All Those Shadows Almost Killed Your Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry try to find how to be after what happened to them. An unexpected visitor brings word of bad things to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to justwanderingneverlost for the gorgeous mood board. 
> 
> I loved writing this chapter. Delving into Arya and Gendry as they try to recover who they were and who they are now.

 

_ I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I'll never let you go _ __  
_ When all those shadows almost killed your light _ __  
_ I remember you said don't leave me here alone _ __  
_ But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight _ __  
  


_ Just close your eyes, the sun is going down _ __  
_ You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now _ _  
_ __ Come morning light, 

_ you and I'll be safe and sound _ __  
  


_ Don't you dare look out your window, darling everything's on fire _ __  
_ The war outside our door keeps raging on _ _  
_ __ Hold onto this lullaby even when 

_ the music's gone, gone _ __  
  


_ Just close your eyes, the sun is going down _ __  
_ You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now _ _  
_ __ Come morning light, 

_ you and I'll be safe and sound _ __  
_ Just close your eyes, you'll be alright _ _  
_ __ Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

 

_ Safe and Sound  
_ **_Taylor Swift_ **

 

**ARYA**

 

She sat at the window, watching the building going on outside, their quiet mountain crawling with strange people. She wanted out there with them. Wished she could be done having others help her, but she wasn’t there yet. Her ankle wasn’t quite healed yet and there were times she could still feel their boots stomping her into the mud, and pain would flicker through her body like lightning. 

 

But the pain was more tolerable than feeling helpless. She cast a look behind her to the bed. Gendry was still sleeping. Her heart hurt in a way she could never put to words to see him swollen and pale and bruised. He didn’t complain, he barely spoke, and when he did it was always with a joke or quip, obviously to lighten the mood surrounding the people talking to him. She saw their pity when they looked at him. Knew she was guilty of it herself. Knew he hated it. And he had nightmares like her too, but when he’d gasp awake or startle, the pain that racked through his body was visible, adding a double dose of torment to her heart.

 

She felt like she should’ve done more to try to stop it. Fought harder, rammed them with the truck before she got out. Had Gendry drive through the woods instead of enduring what they did. The sounds of his grunts as they beat him echoed in the silence of the room sometimes. The squelching of their boots, the crunch of bones, and it all made her restless and angry, ready to come out of her skin. 

 

Gendry suddenly jolted, his eyes wide open, and his breath coming in deep gasps, quickly turning to short ones as he tried to recover from the pain. She moved from her chair to the bed and ran her fingers through his hair until it subsided. Neither spoke after their dreams, as if giving voice to them seemed more than either could handle. She shifted and turned, laying on her side to face him, one arm tucked beneath her pillow. 

 

“What’s happening outside?” he asked, his voice soft, obviously needing a distraction from his thoughts. 

 

“A lot of people roamin’ ‘round,” she answered. “New barn going up, repairs to the old one and the house.”

 

“Dany find em a place for their house, yet?”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t know. You hungry? Margaery said somethin’ ‘bout mashed potatoes, green beans, and ham.”

 

He took her hand with his good one. “Not yet,” he replied. “They worked out a plan to kill those fuckers?”

 

“Not that they’ve told me. I think they’re scared of tellin’ me things.”

 

“Well, you had such a mild reaction to Robb and Jon goin’ after Ramsay and Locke...”

 

“It was stupid and Dany got hurt cause they was careless.”

 

“And you know you would’ve been with them if you was able to go,” he reminded her. “Ya need to lay off em.” She frowned and he heaved a sigh. “Really? You're just gonna let that go without a response?”

 

“What do ya mean?”

 

He looked down at their hands. “You’re not fightin’ with me.”

 

“I don’t wanna fight.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re always wantin’ a fight. Part of who  _ we _ are is that we argue but know it don’t mean nothin’.” He squeezed her hand. “Everybody’s treatin’ me like I’m on my last leg. I’m doin’ better every day...”

 

“I’m not tryin’ to do that—“

 

“But ya are. I already feel useless, worthless—“

 

“And you ain’t either of those things,” she told him sharply.

 

“Then don’t treat me different. Argue with me if you don’t like what I got ta say. I love you. I love that you make me crazy cause you argue with everythin’. So argue with me, tell me why you’re pickin’ fights with your brothers about somethin’ that you wanted to do yourself.”

 

She moved closer and brushed her fingers over his cheek. “Jon and Robb did somethin’ stupid. Jon broke a promise...”

 

“Which has got ta tell ya how strongly he believed what he was doin’ was right, cause Jon don’t break his word. Neither does Robb. But Arya, we ain’t none of us promised tomorrow.” He closed his eyes for a moment, taking several shallow breaths before continuing. “Make peace with em. Soon.”

 

The screen door opened and a knock on the door followed soon after. Arya sighed and bid them enter. Margaery came in with the Hound behind her. She smiled at them. “Since you were sitting up at the table yesterday, we’re going to do that, again, if you feel up to it. Sandor was kind enough to offer his assistance.”

 

Gendry nodded and Sandor helped him to his feet and allowed him to stand. He insisted on being able to walk the distance himself, but the Hound stayed close by as Arya followed them from the room. On their kitchen table laid their evening meal; ham steaks, already sliced into chewable chunks for her husband, piles of mashed potatoes with brown gravy, and green beans that had pieces of bacon mingled in. There were also slices of cornbread with butter and glasses of tea beside the plates. 

 

Gendry slowly settled in his chair and she sat down beside him. He picked up his fork and began eating. She watched him for a few minutes as the Hound made his way back to the porch and Margaery went into their bedroom. 

 

By the time they were both finished eating, Margaery had come out with a basket on her hip, filled with their bed linens and clothes. “You have fresh sheets on the bed,” she commented as she moved around their house with ease, putting things in their proper place. She filled up the basin of water and took it back to their room only to exit again with their medicine.

 

“What’s happenin’ out there?” she asked her.

 

Margaery turned to face them. “The repairs to the house are nearly complete, the walls insulated and the upstairs livable again. The old barn is almost done as well. The new barn is going to be twice the size, but Dany said we’ll need the space when the harvest comes next year.” She folded her arms over her chest as she looked at the floor. “Word in town is Roose is outraged about Ramsay and wants Dany arrested, but Davos is standing firm that she killed him to save her life.”

 

“Anything gonna come of that?” Gendry asked in concern.

 

“Not a chance in hell,” Margaery replied with a smile. “All those people in town, the ones who helped put out the fire, saw her come running from her house screaming as she fired off her gun. If they got a whiff something might happen to Dany, the whole town would revolt,” Margaery said, her tone dark. “Not to mention, the two older gentlemen that are here for her, as well as Jon and Robb, they’d all ride out to Roose’s to settle it with him for good.”

 

“Have em check the bodies this time,” Arya said nastily.

 

Gendry cleared his throat. “Stop it,” he bit out and looked at Margaery. “Gimme a minute with her.”

 

Margaery nodded and lifted the basket onto her hip. “I’ll be back for your plates later,” she said softly and closed the front door behind her. Arya leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest.

 

“This how it’s gonna be now?” he asked, his poor battered face twisted into a frown.

 

She hung her head and tried to control all the emotions swirling within her. “Wanna know why I’m really mad?”

 

“‘Course!”

 

She focused on the floor and let out a sigh. “I wanted to do what they did after Ramsay trashed her house. I wanted all a’ us to get in your truck, ride out to the Bolton’s and kill em all,” she confessed. She looked up at Gendry, feeling all the muscles in her body tense at how he stared at her. “But we didn’t. I didn’t. Jon talked me out of it and made me swear I wouldn’t do nothin’. Made me promise, and I fuckin’ kept it. But...he promised me after our attack he wouldn’t do nothin’. That he would wait. Even...even when I didn’t know if you was gonna make it, I made him promise cause I couldn’t stand the thought that I could lose him, too.” She shook her head and took a deep shuddering breath. “He broke his promise and Dany nearly died.”

 

Gendry was quiet for a moment and then his good hand reached for her. At his persistent tugging, she went to her feet and sat across his lap, careful not to jostle him. “And he’s livin’ with that guilt. There ain’t nothin’ you nor anybody else can say or do that’s gonna beat him up better than he will himself.” He sighed. “Guilt has a way of makin’ everythin’ worse cause all ya do is play it over and over in your head, wonderin’ if you had done somethin’ different if it might a’ saved some pain. Like drivin’ back into a road faster or pullin’ through the woods...”

 

She shook her head. “We were stuck...”

 

“Were we?” he hissed. “Cause I don’t remember and it’s eatin’ away at me. I keep thinkin’ how I shoulda made ya stay in the truck, shoulda made you  _ promise _ to drive away...”

 

“Ya never woulda got that promise from me.”

 

He turned his eyes from her. “I know Jon promised ya, but believe me, I woulda done the same fuckin’ thing. Wouldn’t a’ mattered how mad at me ya got, I woulda done it. Anythin’ to try to spare you pain.” He leaned back in his chair. “There’s a whole family here ta think ‘bout, but you’re the center a my world. You’re my sun. If someone threatens ya or hurts ya...that’s on me—“

 

She shook her head vehemently, resting a hand on the side of his neck. “Don’t you dare try to take the blame for what happened ta us. None of it is your fault,” she whispered.

 

“It feels like my fault,” he said, tears welling in his eyes. “Feels like I coulda done more or fought harder...”

 

“There wasn’t nothin’, Gendry. I mean it! Nothing!”

 

She swiped gently at the tear that rolled down his cheek. 

 

“That don’t mean I don’t still feel that way.” He shook his head. “Let Jon and Robb go of it. There ain’t no way they woulda wanted her hurt and you know it.”

 

She swallowed back the sob that sat in her throat. He was tormenting himself. Thinking he could’ve done more to fight for them. But knowing the harsh reality as she did, if he'd done anymore she might’ve had to bury him. He’d been so strong during all of this, not even acknowledging to her he was having nightmares, pushing aside all the pain he could, concerned about everyone but himself. 

 

She resolved in her mind right then to make peace with Jon and Robb, for his sake, as well as everyone else's.

 

*~*

 

She waited for Gendry to drift off to sleep before she slipped out of the house, leaving the Hound on guard as she made her way to the main house. Jorah, Bronn, and Rokahrro sat on the front porch, each tipped their heads at her as she slowly climbed the stairs. She was walking without the crutch, but there were times her ankle still smarted. 

 

She opened the front door and found their living room full of people. Her family, Margaery's brothers, and several of the newcomers she'd caught glimpses of outside her windows. There wasn’t a chair to be found, Margaery actually sat on Robb’s lap. Everyone was looking at her as she stood staring at them, wondering how she was going to broach the topic. 

 

Dany stood and motioned to her friends. “Arya, this is Missandei and Grey, and this fella here is Jeor Mormont.” She smiled at her. “This is Jon and Robb’s youngest sister, Arya.” 

 

Arya nodded to them all and they her. “Nice to meet ya, appreciate the help.”

 

“Everything alright?” Dany asked in concern.

 

“Gendry okay?” Jon asked right behind her.

 

She nodded again, the healing bruise and cut on Dany's cheek having drawn her attention. Gendry was right, no one would blame Jon and Robb more than they were probably blaming themselves. “I wanted ta speak ta my brothers for a second.”

 

With a pat to her hip, Robb bid Margaery to stand and let him up. Dany squeezed Jon's hand as he got up from his seat beside her. They followed Arya into the kitchen and she waited until she heard the others in the next room start speaking again before she started. “I’ve...been nasty to ya lately. ‘Bout Ramsay and what happened with Dany.” Jon folded his arms over his chest but Robb leaned against the counter and stared at the floor. “I’m sorry. I-I ain’t dealin’ with all this well...Gendry and me talked. He blames himself for what happened...” She shook her head and held back the tears as best she could. “And it wasn’t his fault. He wouldn’t have wished that on us and I guess that’s what I was missin’. Your intent was ta protect your family, no matter the outcome...”

 

Her brothers shifted on their feet, both seeming ready to speak, but she had to get this out first.

 

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and met Jon's eyes. “I was mad at ya, cause ya made me promise not ta go after them. A pointed promise you knew I couldn’t wiggle out of. And I made you promise at the hospital not ta do nothin’.” She shook her head. “‘Nother part was angry with ya cause I  _ knew _ I woulda been with ya if I coulda been...but I don’t want y’all beatin’ yourselves up like Gendry is. Y’all don’t deserve it. Y’all were tryin’ to protect us, avenge what happened. Y’all never woulda reaped this on any of us. Since I was little y’all have watched out for us. Protected us when we needed it,” she said softly. “When ya came back from the war, ya picked up right where ya left off. Y’all kept our family together and made it work. I’m sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass. I really am.”

 

Robb stepped forward and wrapped her gently in a hug. “It’s alright. We’re together. You’re alright. Gendry is gettin’ better. Dany’s healin’ up. That’s all that matters,” he whispered in her ear.

 

She felt relief course through her blood as Robb released her and she stared at Jon as he watched her, pain filling his dark eyes. He swallowed hard and wiped his hand over his mouth and beard. “I’m sorry I broke my promise,” he whispered. 

 

She shook her head and bit her lip to keep it from quivering. “First and only time, right?”

 

Jon nodded and then he was hugging her, too. “I don’t like ya bein’ mad at me,” he breathed, pulling back and cupping her face softly. “Makes it hard to deal with all of it if I ain’t got you on my side.”

 

She gave him a sad smile. “You always got me,” she said with a nod. Jon kissed her forehead and let her go. 

 

Robb glanced out the kitchen window into the dark. “How’s Gendry?”

 

“Physically or mentally? Physically, he’s gettin’ better. We sat at the table and had dinner. Mentally...I don’t know what I can say to make him not blame himself and it’s killin’ me,” she whispered.

 

Jon shook his head. “Ain’t nothin’ you can say. Believe me on that.” 

 

Looking at her brother as he stared at the floor, she knew Marg was right, just as Gendry had been. Jon looked older than she'd ever seen him. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and he was carrying himself different, as if he had weights attached to him, his body weak from the labor. Her husband looked much the same these days.

 

“He’s havin’ nightmares that he don’t tell me ‘bout, he doesn’t tell me when he’s in pain, he’s...shuttin’ me out at the same time he’s tellin’ me not to shut  _ him  _ out.”

 

Robb sighed. “It hasn’t been that long. It seems like years, I know. But you and Gendry will work it out and he’ll start ta talk.”

 

“How do ya know that?”

 

Jon actually smiled, even if it was as fleeting as a shadow. “You kiddin? You’re his best friend. And he’s yours. You been keepin’ secrets together since he got here. This don’t have ta change that.”

 

She frowned, trying to fight off the words bubbling up, the fear that was threatening to eat her whole. It all spilled out anyway. “I’m just scared after all a this, after he’s healed, we’re not...he won’t love me no more.”

 

Robb shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think that’s somethin’ ya need ta worry ‘bout. You and Gendry are gonna be just fine. I know it.”

 

Jon came around and put an arm over her shoulder. “Me, too,” he said, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Come on, I’ll walk ya home.” He led her back through the door and helped down the stairs. As they made their way across the yard he cleared his throat. “I ain’t no expert on this, but I know a bit, from me, and Dany,” he said with a heavy sigh. Just the way he said her name made Arya ache. “Give him some time, alright? When you...been hurt like he has and feel like ya let someone you love down, it eats at ya. Like nothin’ I've ever known. All ya gotta do is be there and willin’ ta listen. He’ll talk to ya eventually. He still might not tell ya all of it, but he’ll tell you when he's ready.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

“You know he will. He loves you more than anythin’. I know it. You do, too. Just give him time,” he said and pulled her into his side. 

 

She let her head rest against him the rest of the way home. Even with the weight hanging between her and Gendry, she felt lighter having her brothers back. 

 

*~*

 

She was sitting on the porch with Gendry who had insisted on being outside. He complained the air in their room smelled stale and stagnant. Not even open windows helped. So, while the Hound slept in their spare room, she and Gendry were enjoying the crisp mountain air, watching the new barn go up. Neither of them could believe Dany's men were almost finished with it. 

 

The roar of an engine coming over the mountain had people stopping what they were doing. Bronn and Jeor stood straight from where they'd been leaning against the fence watching the work, both of them drawing weapons. Her brothers were headed toward the house from the barn at a brisk pace to see who it was. Arya glanced at Gendry nervously, hoping she could get him back into the house quick enough should something bad be coming.

 

But as the car pulled into the yard, it came on over to their place and stopped. Her blood boiled to see the familiar face of Ros behind the windshield. Arya made her way down the steps. Gendry reached for her with his good hand, but she brushed him away and advanced on the other woman.

 

Ros got out and stood her ground, never taking her eyes from Arya. Her face had recently been cut. One eye was swollen shut, a nasty bruise was blooming across her cheek. Arya stopped her stampede and waited. She looked onto the porch at Gendry who was leaning slightly forward in his seat as Ros took a deep breath.

 

“I heard what happened to ya,” she said softly. “Don’t nobody deserve that.”

 

Arya could still see all the interested looks from her family and Dany's, she waved them off. “Why are you here?”

 

Ros swallowed hard and brushed some of her hair away from her face. Her hand shook. “I was just coming back from Doc Sam's. He stitched me up. Told me what happened to y’all and that school marm.” She shook her head. “Like I said, don’t nobody deserve that. Joffrey and some of his goons paid a visit to my establishment last night.” She hung her head and folded her arms across her chest, pulled her lip between her teeth. “They’re planning’ somethin’ and they’re plannin’ on bringin’ it here. Gonna be the end a all you if they get their way.”

 

Gendry stood with a grunt and braced himself on the porch post. “What did he say?”

 

“Bout a week none of ya would be here. Your home would be burnt to the ground just like the schoolhouse. That all a ya would pay for Ramsay.”

 

Arya threw a worried look at Gendry, then turned back to Ros. “Joffrey do that to ya?”

 

She shrugged. “Not the first time someone’s done it, won’t be the last, but I hate that sniveling little cunt and wouldn’t mind it if you and yours would end him, for good.” She propped a hand on her hip. “We ain’t ever gonna be friends. But I sure as hell like your lot more than them.”

 

Arya nodded. “Got any other information we could use to our advantage?”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Regulars close to em who might be caught unaware?”

 

Ros’ smile was almost evil. “Yeah. Amory Lorch. Pays a visit to one of our girls every Wednesday at seven and leaves ‘round nine. And that bastard Trant likes a particular girl and he comes in on Saturdays. He was with Joffrey’s bunch last night, but he’s always there on Saturday nights. I will tell ya that Saturday is usually full, but Wednesday’s...well, might be easier to get someone.”

 

“Thanks, Ros,” Gendry called over.

 

“Any time, good lookin’,” she said with a wink and turned to a scowling Arya. “Old habits,” she said before she climbed back into her car and drove away. 

 

Gendry gingerly made his way to their front door. “Tell the others. My head’s startin’ to pound.”

 

“You alright?”

 

He waved her off. “Yeah, too much sun, I think.”

 

She watched him shuffle into the house and the door close behind him. She started to go after him, sensing something else was wrong, but decided that giving the information to the others would have to happen first. She crossed the yard and went to find her brothers.

  
  


*~*

 

**GENDRY**

 

He lay staring at the ceiling, trying to block out the pain as best he could. He was tired of being on the painkillers Sam had given him. He wanted to be lucid, awake for whatever was coming. As bad as his arm and fingers hurt, the relentless ache in his chest with every breath he took, nothing physically hurt as much as his face. It throbbed constantly, as if every beat of his heart pulsed within his bones, each one a fist. 

 

He turned his head at the sound of the bedroom door opening and Arya walked in, still a slight limp to her step. He didn’t remember much of what happened after the first punch, but the one thing he did was her screaming his name. No matter how he tried, he couldn't stop it from running in a constant loop inside his head. He swallowed thickly, fighting back the shame. He let that happen to her. He should’ve been watching the road better. He should’ve had his gun.

 

“You tell em?”

 

She nodded as she stripped out of her dress and into a clean nightgown. The bruises and marks along her back had faded some. Her face was nearly healed as well, hopefully, her ankle would be soon too. He didn't know how she got any of her injuries, didn’t know what they’d done to his feisty wife. He wanted to ask, but a big part of him feared the answers. Watching her prepare to attack Ros today reminded him that the she-wolf he loved was still in there, though. She was just in hiding, from him.

 

She crawled into bed beside him, careful not to touch him. She had come into his arms willingly the night before, sat on his lap, but when they got into bed she kept her distance. No one had said and he hadn’t asked, but the distance made him fear the worst. It was an icy hand choking his heart.

 

He reached his plastered hand out and stroked a finger against her palm. “You alright?”

 

“Yep. This is the least angry I’ve been after seeing Ros, ever. Even if that last jab made me want to kick her.”

 

He grinned, but winced at the pain in his face. “I’m proud a you for your restraint.”

 

Her smile was soft and small as she rolled to her side and faced him. “You feelin’ better?”

 

He nodded. “Much as I’m tired a lookin at these four walls...though they’re always better when you’re around.” She was quiet for a few minutes, her fingers grazing against his. “You got somethin’ on your mind?” he asked, hoping she would talk to him, tell him what she was thinking.

 

“Worried ‘bout everythin’. It’s worse cause I don’t feel like I’m bein’ any help.” She shook her head. “Other than that, everythin’ is perfect,” she said with a fake smile. “How ‘bout you?”

 

“Worried ‘bout my wife.”

 

Arya’s face softened at that. “Whatcha worried ‘bout me for?”

 

“I’m your husband. I love you. It’s my responsibility to worry ‘bout you.”

 

She leaned up on her elbow and brushed her fingers over the bruises on his chest. “That all it is?”

 

“Whatcha mean?”

 

“I mean...” she hesitated, looking away from his eyes and down at her fingers. “Feels like there’s somethin’ hangin’ between us. I just don’t know what it is. Somethin’ that’s...botherin’ you.”

 

He held her hand with his good one. “Lots a things are botherin’ me, Arya. None of em are gonna bring us peace.”

 

“They might if you told me.”

 

He looked at her, felt the words on the tip of his tongue, but fear held him back. He didn’t think he could handle it if the horrors swimming in his head were proved true. His mind was doing enough to conjure the gut-wrenching details of what happened to her. The flicker and flash of street lights revealing her beside him, naked, covered in mud and blood, as she drove him to safety. The dim lights of the bedroom in Sam’s house catching the tears running down her face as she sat beside him crying. 

 

He had failed her, she’d gotten hurt because he couldn’t protect her and he was too much of a coward to ask her how badly. 

 

He finally shook his head. “It won’t.”

 

Her face fell and she slowly lowered herself back to the bed, releasing his hand. The chasm between then that had been stretching by the day, grew larger. “You should rest,” she whispered. 

 

She closed her eyes and he watched her roll to her side, her back to him. His hand physically ached to touch her, to tell her all of it, to unburden himself, but he couldn’t lay all of it at her feet. He couldn’t pull her into the swirling darkness with him. He'd done enough damage already.

 

*~*

 

He was on the porch beside Jon, both of them silent as Arya had a bath and the Hound was in the main house giving Jeor and Bronn all the information he could about his brother. 

 

But he couldn't keep quiet anymore. He had to ask someone and the only person he trusted as much as Arya was Jon. He glanced through their screen door and saw the bathroom door still closed. “How’s Dany?”

 

“She’s...avoidin’,” he answered with a heavy sigh. “Doesn’t really wanna talk about it, so I don’t push her. Usually, by the time we get in bed, we’re both exhausted and we don’t talk much ‘bout anything ‘cept maybe the plans to take down the Lannisters.”

 

“Ramsay...he didn’t...”

 

“No,” Jon said lowly. “Came pretty close.” He let out another sigh with a shake of his head. “And it’s my fault.”

 

Gendry grunted in disagreement. “Ramsay’d been after her since the moment he met her. You forget not ten minutes after Arya and I met her, he was harassin’ her as she walked home? Not to mention the liberties he took at the social. Him and Locke.” He took a careful deep breath. “We all know what happened to Jeyne.  _ You _ know what he was gonna try to do to Dany. What he did try. You were tryin’ to prevent that.”

 

“I shoulda checked the bodies...”

 

“Maybe the group that beat us shoulda checked ours,” he replied. “Instead they left me broken and bloody and Arya...” He looked at Jon, his heart racing. “To be honest, I don’t know what happened to her,” he said softly. “I remember her screamin’, cryin’ my name...but it’s covered in darkness and...” He steadied his breathing, feeling his body shaking and every ounce of pain that came with it. “I only got pieces of memory and things that don’t make a lot of sense...”

 

Jon glanced over at him, his brow twisted, eyes sorrowful. “Arya wants you to talk to her.”

 

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t hear from her lips what I fear most.”

 

Realization drew across Jon’s face as he looked back at the house. “I don’t know a lot of details...”

 

“I just need to know the one  _ big  _ detail. Did they…” He shook his head. “If say it I’ll vomit.”

 

“She says they didn’t.” He felt like his stomach had dropped through the porch floor. “You need to talk to her, Gen. Let her tell you what happened. You can't move past it till you face it.”

 

*~*

 

Margaery entered the house, a tray of food in her hands, followed by Bronn carrying a laundry basket. The older man hadn’t been to see them since they’d come back from Sam’s and he wasn’t sure if it was simply because he was busy with the new people or he couldn’t stand to look at him. He hoped it was the first one.

 

Gendry took a seat in the chair at the table, easing himself down. Arya sat beside him, and Margaery put their food on the table. Two bowls of meaty stew along with half a pan of cornbread. He was thankful for the stew as it was getting colder outside by the day. Margaery took the basket from Bronn and walked into their bedroom. 

 

Bronn sat across from him at the table. “How’re you feelin’?”

 

“Better,” was all he said. He didn’t feel like telling people how his face constantly throbbed or the pain in his mouth where he was missing teeth. Or how taking a deep breath made him feel like he wanted to stop breathing all together to spare him from the pain of his broken ribs. 

 

“You’re getting around better, I see.”

 

“What do you want?” Arya asked finally. She hadn't touched her food and was leaned back in her chair with her arms folded over her chest.

 

“Nice to see you too, Missy,” Bronn snorted. She rolled her eyes at him. Bronn ignored her, turning back to him. “We been discussing plans for the fight that’s comin’. We’re hopin’ we can get enough warnin’ for us to get everybody in place. We both know she,” he said nudging his head toward Arya, “ain’t gonna back down from the fight. I suspect you don’t wanna either.”

 

Gendry shook his head. “Fuck no.”

 

Bronn nodded. “I had an idea. Jon says you’re a damn good sharpshooter.”

 

“One of the skills I got durin’ the war.”

 

“I wanna use it. I wanna put you on the roof of the house, with me, and we can pick em off from up above.”

 

Gendry was about to answer when Arya’s voice broke through. “And how’s he gonna get on the roof? You gonna carry him?”

 

He cut her a look. “I’m gonna climb.”

 

“With your broke hand?”

 

He scowled at her. “I can get up a ladder with one hand and if I lay on my stomach—“

 

“You have broken ribs,” she responded.

 

“Like I fuckin’ forgot, Arya,” he snapped. He looked back at Bronn. “I’m your man.”

 

Bronn had gotten up from the table during their spat. He gave a nod. Margaery came out of the bedroom, stopping at the tense scene. “Is everything alright?”

 

Gendry nodded and shoved more stew in his mouth. “It’s good,” he said once he's swallowed, ignoring the glare from his wife. “Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome. Fresh sheets on the bed and fresh night clothes laid out for you,” she said. “I’ll be back later to get your plates.”

 

“I’ll wash them,” Arya said. “I can start being useful again.”

 

Margaery looked at the two of them and smiled. “Well, alright, if you're sure. Do you still want me to bring you meals?”

 

“Yeah,” Arya answered. “No one wants to eat my cookin’.” She pushed her stew around but still hadn't eaten any of it. 

 

Bronn held the door open for Margaery and closed it behind them.

 

The silence that ensued was nearly unbearable. He wanted her to argue with him but she remained frustratingly mute. The chasm between them grew wider still.

 

*~*

 

The only sound in the house was the slight squeak of the rocking chair outside where the Hound sat. Once again he was laying on his back staring at the ceiling. She was taking her time doing the dishes. He figured she'd finished up long ago, she was just avoiding being in the same room with him, or hoping she’d given him enough time to fall asleep. 

 

The water turned off and the scrape of a chair against the floor echoed through the house. Their bedroom door opened and Arya walked in, going straight to their wardrobe and changing quickly. His eyes went back to the ceiling, and counting the boards over his head, an attempt to keep the horrible images that raced through his head at bay. 

 

She sat on the edge of the bed, then turned abruptly and faced him. “Ya can’t be involved! Ya can’t hold a rifle right now! Ya know ya can’t!”

 

As much as he'd been wanting her to argue, talk,  _ anything _ , he was taken aback by her sudden outburst. He shifted on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. “I can if I balance it on my cast—“

 

“And your ribs? Ya can’t even lay on your side cause it hurts ya. And what about your swollen eyes? Ya think you’ll be able ta see?”

 

He twisted his head, poking a finger into the quilt. “If you think I’m gonna lay in this bed while my family fights–”

 

“We can take you to Sansa’s! Ya don’t have ta be here!” Her eyes were wide, the beautiful grey nearly swallowed by black. She wasn't just angry, she was afraid.

 

“You gonna stay there with me?” At her silence, he shook his head. “I’m gonna stay here and fight for my family. I can deal with the pain...”

 

She was up off the bed then, fists clenched at her sides. “I can’t! I can’t see you hurt no more! You’re in pain all the time and you don’t tell me! But I know you! I know you’re trying to hide it from me! Just tell me why. I need to know! Why are you shutting me out?”

 

He shook his head again, wincing from pain, visceral and vivid. “I ain't tryin’ to.”

 

“But you are! It’s killin’ me, Gendry. I love you. I want to help you. But you’re not lettin’ me,” she cried.

 

“Help me how? You think unloadin’ all a’ this on ya is gonna make me feel better? It won’t! It just makes you carry the burden with me.”

 

“That’s the point of marriage, you idiot! We’re ‘spose to carry it together.” She ran a hand over her face, wiping at her eyes. “You have to tell me what’s botherin’ you. I know there’s somethin’ big. I can feel it. And you can say it don’t matter, but it does to me. Tell me.”

 

He shook his head. “I don’t know that I can.”

 

“Why?” she asked, frustration coming off of her in waves.

 

“Cause I don’t know that I can survive your answer.”

 

She sat down beside him, her sweet face twisted with anguish. “You gotta tell me, Gen. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s broken.”

 

He closed his eyes, feeling as if his throat was closing up. He tried to get the words out, but his body refused to let him. The soft caress of her fingers along his cheek made him look at her, eyes imploring him to tell her. When he spoke it came out as a strangled whisper. “I don’t...I don’t remember past the first few punches. I got glimpses in my head that don’t make sense and I don’t know if they’re real...”

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

“Were...I mean, did they...what did they do to me... you?”

 

She tilted her head to the side. “That’s why you been shuttin’ me out?”

 

He looked down at the quilt laying over his lap, pulling at a loose string. “I just...don’t ‘member what happen’.”

 

“They made me watch em beat you,” she said softly. “The more I fought em the worse it got for you. I stopped strugglin’. They'd a’ killed you if I hadn't. Joffrey cut my clothes off. They made fun a’ me then threatened to rape me.” His stomach gave a dangerous heave, he swallowed hard, breathing against the sickening flush that filled his every crack and crevice. Her hand came to his chest, gently rubbing. He opened his eyes to find hers staring back, earnestly. She shook her head. “They  _ didn’t. _ ”

 

The whole of his being seemed to rush out of him then, right along with all his air. He believed her, and nothing had ever brought him such relief. 

 

“Joffrey was gonna cut me with my knife but Nymeria got a hold of his arm, then Meryn’s leg. I broke Polliver’s nose and reached for my knife...” she paused. “They forced me to the ground and stomped on me until I passed out.”

 

He took her hand in his. “So...rememberin’ you covered in mud drivin’...”

 

“Probably real,” she answered. “Why didn’t you ask me before?”

 

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t know another way I failed you.”

 

Her brows drew together, hard and angry. “You haven’t failed at all. Ever. Not one fuckin’ day, Gendry.” She shook her head. “The worst moment of my life was watchin’ you crawl through the mud and rain to try and help me. You did everything you could. Nothin’ that happened was your fault. I love you, Gendry,” she gasped, “I love you. Losin’ ya is my greatest fear...”

 

“Hey,” he said as he pulled her down to lay against him, ignoring the pain. “I survived this. We survived this. We can make it through anything. You and me.”

 

She looked up at him. “I don’t want you fightin’.”

 

He sighed. “I don’t want you to, neither. I reckon we'll just both have to be there to protect each other.”

 

Arya settled against him, her arm wrapped around his waist. “When you’re healed enough, we’re havin’ a lot of sex.”

 

He chuckled but winced at the pain in his ribs. She rubbed her fingers over his chest, soothingly. “Ya know, I’ve always been as attracted to your wicked mind as I am the rest of ya,” he said.

 

She chuckled this time. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, my feisty little wife.”


	27. The Difference Between What Should Be And What's So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations for a showdown. Truths are revealed. Robb turns to his wife when he's feeling lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood boards made by the wonderful Justwanderingneverlost. There are two for this chapter and a few others because there are so many pictures we want to use and we just don't have enough chapters to go around. 
> 
> Thank you all for the love and support for this fic of ours. I love writing with JW and I think she would say she loves writing with me. At this point, I trust her judgment better than my own. She has a way of weaving words together that just leaves me breathless with her descriptions. I'm much more of a dialogue person. JW manages to breathe more life into that. I could seriously gush about her writing all day long. 
> 
> And to our lovely tarts who have been with us since day one on this endeavor. FrostBitePanda for betaing the really hard chapters for us. Meisie for reading the entire first half of this fic and helping us make our smut the best it can possibly be. To thewolvenstorm, jalenmara, daenerys1417, and notmahlem for being such amazing women. All of them are amazing writers in their own right. Go read their stuff. Go leave love on it. 
> 
> Also, branch out and read new writers. If you don't like it, hit the back button, but read new things and new writers. Leave comments for what you like. Writing is such an emotional journey for us. And sometimes, it takes a lot of courage to even post. Let people know what you like. Yes, kudos are nice, but let writers know you're there and that you enjoyed what you read. It's the best sort of high that anyone can get, believe me.

 

 

 

 _Hole in the road_  
_Sun on your back_  
_Shoulder the load_  
_Your ancestors passed_  
_Wear on your sleeve_  
_The virtues you lack_  
_But don't get above your raising_  
_Sell your damn soul_  
_Or get right with the man_  
_Keep treading water as long as you can_  
_But whatever you do_  
_You must understand_  
_That you don't get above your raising_  
_No you don't get above your raising_  
_Cuz it's one for the somber_  
_And two for the stone_  
_And three for the ready to get low low low low_  
_Four for the fortunate few that don't know_  
_The difference between what should be_  
_And what's so_  
_Reach for the sky_  
_Kneel down and pray_  
_Get in the dirt and_  
_Get out of the way_  
_But don't you forget_  
_'til you climb in that grave_  
_That you don't get above your raising_  
_One for the somber_  
_Two for the stone_  
_Three for the ready to get low low low low_  
_Four for the fortunate few that don't know_  
_The difference between what should be_  
_And what's so_  
_One for the somber_  
_Two for the stone_  
_Three for the ready to get low low low low_  
_Four for the fortunate_  
_Few that don't know_  
_The difference between what should be_ _  
_ And what's so

 

 _What's So  
_ **_John Paul White_ **

 

**ROBB**

 

He stood at the counter of Tormund’s store, as Margaery browsed. They had come into town for an appointment with Sam regarding the baby. Everything seemed to be moving along perfectly as far as Sam could tell, and he couldn't be anything but thankful for it. They'd left his office feeling happy, forgetting for a time there was a murderous family out to kill them. Instead, he basked in the warmth of Margaery's smile as she dreamed out loud of their baby's russet curls and big blue eyes.

 

When she asked to stop at the general store, he was happy to oblige, and they’d been greeted warmly by Tormund, Brienne coming from the back when she heard her husband’s booming voice.

 

Margaery called him over and he made his way to her. In her hand was a white baby bonnet. She turned to him, a bright smile on her face and teary eyes. “Soon,” she whispered.

 

He smiled and put a gentle hand on the slight swell of her belly and kissed her forehead. “Soon.”

 

The bell over the door rang, and they both looked up. Robb stopped cold to see Roose Bolton enter. He quickly guided Margaery behind a display, away from the gaze of the other man, keeping his hand on the hilt of his gun hidden beneath his coat. Word was Roose had been raising hell to anyone who would listen about Dany killing Ramsay. Thankfully it appeared most people were turning a deaf ear. They knew Davos was. But there was no telling what would happen if he was to see them.

 

“What can I do for you?” Brienne asked him, as he stepped up to the counter.

 

Roose pointed out the window. “Is that the Stark car outside?”

 

Robb stiffened and he felt Margaery trembling in his arms. He squeezed her tighter. But Tormund and Brienne weren’t fools. The latter stretched her neck, leaning over the counter, making a show of looking, then shook her head. “Nope. That’s mine. Gift from my husband.”

 

Roose went quiet for a moment, looking around the store. “You sure? I could swear they had that exact car.”

 

Tormund shrugged. “She liked theirs, so I bought her one. What can we help you with?”

 

Roose continued to look around, obviously not believing their story. But he turned back to them, handing over a piece of paper. “My man’s out back. I need these items loaded into the truck.”

 

Tormund took the list from him and nodded. “Course,” he said, “get right on it.”

 

Roose began walking through the store. He and Margaery slipped quietly out of view toward the back storeroom. Robb could see the truck waiting by the loading dock, one of the Bolton lackies standing beside it. Someone suddenly walked up behind them, he pulled his gun, but it was Tormund who put a finger to his lips and opened a hidden door behind a set of cabinets. There were guns, several crates of moonshine, and a safe inside. They entered it quickly and shut the door. Robb peeked through the crack watching Tormund wave Roose’s man inside.

 

He held Margaery tight, pressing his lips to her forehead.

 

“You're friends with Snow, aren’t you, Tormund?” Roose’s voice sounded just outside the door. He pulled them further into the cramped space.

 

“What of it?” Tormund asked.

 

“Are you hiding him from me?”

 

It was quiet for a moment, then, “I know this ‘bout Jon Snow: that boy’s got more balls than brains. I don’t think you have to worry ‘bout him hidin’ from you. You’ll see him when he wants ya to.”

 

“Is that a threat?” Roose snarled.

 

“Only if you take it as one.”

 

“You know his whore killed my son.”

 

They heard a deep sigh. “I know your son was a rapist and had already threatened Miss Storm, more ‘an once. I also know if you don’t get outta my face, I’ll break your nose. And that wasn’t a threat, that was a promise,” Tormund hissed, low and menacing.

 

Heavy bootsteps sounded across the old wood floors, then the slam of truck doors split the air. Robb leaned against the wall, holding Margaery to him until they heard the truck drive off.

 

Tormund knocked on the door before opening it. “He’s gone. But you can’t drive your car home. He’ll be waiting for it to leave, if I was bettin’.”

 

Robb frowned. “What do we do?”

 

“Give Brienne the keys. She’ll take it to our house and bring back our truck. Maybe get Howland Reed to come with her in his car and carry you two home.”

 

The bell overhead rang again and Tormund stepped away, a frown forming on his face.

 

“Who is it?” Margaery hissed.

 

“Jaime Lannister and his children. Oh, and Tyrion, too.”

 

Robb stepped out, then, holding Margaery’s hand.

 

Tyrion looked up at them in surprise the moment he spotted them. “Ah, Stark, this saves me a trip up the mountain.”

 

Robb scowled at him. “You comin’ up our mountain? Why?”

 

He gestured toward Jaime. “My brother and I are leaving town for a month. We heard Chattanooga is lovely at Christmas,” he said and lowered his voice. “The children are also still having a rough time with all the school happenings. They worry about their teacher too. How is she?”

 

“Stronger than anyone knows,” Margaery answered.

 

Tyrion smiled at that. “Glad to hear it.” He looked around nervously, then back to them. “You should know, they’re coming for you. Friday,” he whispered. “Jaime overheard it, said we needed to be far away from this mess, no matter the outcome. My...father, however, won’t be involved.”

 

Robb frowned. “Any idea how to get him involved?”

 

“A personal attack of some sort would work. You'll never get close to him without dying, but get as close as you can. Just be careful.”

 

“We will.”

 

Brienne stepped over and Robb handed his key over to her. She left the store, climbed into their car and drove away.

 

Tyrion sighed. “I wish none of this was happening.”

 

Margaery nodded. “We all do. Take care of yourselves.”

 

“You, too. All of you.”

 

With that, Tyrion walked away and over to Jaime who gave them a nod before they all left, the children with a bag of sweets in hand.

 

*~*

 

Howland came back with Brienne. He parked his truck against the loading dock, allowing the two to slip inside and duck down in the back. Robb could see that Margaery was terrified, and he couldn’t say that he blamed her. He pressed his hand over the swell of the baby. He had to get them somewhere safer. She’d refuse, but he was going to ask it of her anyway.

 

When they arrived back home, Loras was on the porch, looking concerned as they climbed out of Howland’s truck and the other man left quickly. “What happened? Where’s the car?” Loras asked.

 

“Need to tell everybody at once. Do you know where they are?”

 

“In the old barn. Are you alright?” he asked Marg.

 

“Shaken up,” she answered.

 

Jon stood immediately when they walked in, obviously able to tell something was wrong. “What happen’?”

 

Jeor sent one of the Dothraki to take up Loras’s spot while he listened.

 

He took a deep breath. “We stopped at Tormund’s after the visit with Sam. Roose showed up and had us trapped in the store for a while. Asked about the car. Knew it was ours. It’s with Brienne and Tormund for now. They told him it was theirs.” He huffed out a sigh. “He finally left and Brienne went to get Howland to bring his truck to drive us home.” He looked at Jon and Dany. “But we ran into Tyrion.”

 

Jon tilted his head. “Anythin’ useful?”

 

“Plenty,” Margaery responded.

 

“Friday. They’re comin’ here. All except Tywin. But Tyrion believes some sort of personal attack would get him up here, to see the job done.”

 

Bronn looked at Jeor. “Seems to me, we have a good opportunity day after tomorrow.”

 

“How do you mean?” Dany asked.

 

“Amory Lorch. Ros said he visits her establishment on Wednesdays. He’s one of Tywin’s main guards. We can grab him leavin’, send a message to the fucker,” Bronn said softly.

 

“What do you know about this establishment?” Jeor asked.

 

“Not as much as Arya and Gendry. They ran shine there all the time,” Robb answered.

 

Bronn nodded. “We’ll let em draw a map, you and I will work on what to do with Lorch once we get him.”

 

“I like that plan,” Robb said with a nod and looked at Loras. “Can you keep her company a bit?” Margaery headed back to the house without a word, her brother trotting to catch up. He frowned, almost moving to go after her when Dany laid a hand on his arm.

 

“I'll check on her for you. You and Jon go talk to Arya and Gendry.”

 

“Appreciate it, Dany,” he thanked her and followed Jon who was already headed that way.

 

*~*

 

Arya was sitting by the window, but their brother in law was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Gendry?”

 

“Lovely to see you, too, brothers,” Arya deadpanned.

 

“We need your help. Both a’ ya. Where is he?”

 

“Bathroom.”

 

“By himself?” Jon asked.

 

“He’s a stubborn bull who doesn’t listen to me,” she griped. “He’s usin’ my crutch to get around. What do you need our help for?”

 

The echo of thumps and shuffles reached them and Gendry came through the kitchen door. “Jon, Robb,” he said pleasantly even though anyone could see he was in pain by the grimace on his face. He sat down at the table, his movements careful and slow.

 

Arya glared at him. “You said you’d go right back to bed.”

 

“I will, eventually,” he said with a smirk at her brothers. “We got company.”

 

She audibly groaned, closed her book, and joined them at the table. “How did it go at Doc Sam’s? Margaery and the baby alright?” she asked.

 

Robb gave her a smile, pleased she'd thought to ask. “They’re good,” he answered with a nod and a glance out the screen door to the main house, worried about his wife. “But we got a different reason for bein’ here.”

 

“Robb saw Tyrion in town. Fight’s comin’ Friday, but Tywin ain’t plannin’ to come,” Jon told them.

 

They both drew up hearing that, eyes widening.

 

“Tyrion said we needed a personal attack. Ros told you ‘bout Amory goin’ to her place on Wednesdays, right?” he asked them.

 

Arya nodded. “Yeah. You gonna grab him?”

 

“That’s what we're workin’ on. But it’d help if we had a map of Ros’ place.”

 

Arya grabbed a pen and ripped the front page from the old book she'd been reading.

 

Jon snatched the book up, looking at the spine and laid it back on the table with a sigh. “Next time you go rippin’ up books, make sure they ain't mine first,” he grumbled at her.

 

“Oh hush, I'm sure Dany can buy ya another one. Just give her a pretty pout and she'll be puddy for ya,” she goaded him, trying and failing to hold back a grin.

 

He and Gendry chuckled while Jon snarled at all of them. The weight in Robb’s heart lifted for a few fleeting seconds. It was good to have a moment of normalcy, no matter how short.

 

“Okay, so you know Gendry did most of the drivin’, but I can draw it for ya,” Arya said getting back to it. She drew a couple of lines, turned the paper and drew some more.

 

“Whatever you do in front of that house, you will have an audience,” Gendry warned.

 

Arya finished sketching out the map and asked Gendry if it looked right. He nodded and frowned up at them. “Got a plan?”

 

“Got smarter men than us workin’ on one,” Jon said taking the map. “In case they ask, ‘bout how long is the driveway from the road to the house?”

 

“Half a mile,” Gendry replied. “But once you’re free of the house it’s all woods.”

 

Jon nodded and looked at Robb. He could see it in his eyes, they would go, do what they were told, and not fuck it up this time.

 

He gave Arya and Gendry a smile as they left from the house and walked down the stairs, back to the barn. Jon handed the map over to Bronn and Jeor as soon as they got there.

 

“Gendry said the driveway’s ‘bout half a mile long, but once you’re free a’ the house, it’s all woods til the main road.”

 

Jeor looked at Bronn, Dany, then the two of them. “You boys think you can follow orders?”

 

Jon nodded. “Aye. Tell us what to do and we’ll do it.”

 

“What can you tell me about Lannister’s house?” Jeor asked Dany, “Can you see it from the road?”

 

“I’ve been past it a few times. There’s a gate with a guard. No idea how far back the house is from there,” she answered.

 

“So, at least two people will die,” Jorah chimed in.

 

Bronn clapped his hands together. “Alright, here’s the plan. We grab this Amory fucker and slit his throat. We grab the guard and do the same to him. Then we lash them to the gate for the fucker to find.”

 

Jeor nodded. “It’s simple and bloody. And we set fire to his car. Let’s really draw his attention.”

 

“Fire and blood for you, Khaleesi,” Rokahrro said.

 

Her answering smile was dark. “Fire and blood.”

 

Robb nearly found it disturbing how casually they talked about killing people. He knew Dany’s family was involved in organized crime, but it still set him on edge. But this was a matter of ending this mess once and for all. He'd cope.

 

With that thought, he felt drawn toward his wife. He excused himself, telling Jon he needed to check on Margaery. Loras wasn’t back on the porch yet, instead, the Dothraki were manning it. When he walked inside, voices loud and biting came from the back. He'd know her voice anywhere, and her brother’s too.

 

“No, I said.”

 

“Consider it? Please!”

 

Robb stepped into the room. Margaery was sitting on the bed, wiping at her face. She turned away at his sudden appearance. Loras was kneeling at her feet, his expression sad and frustrated.

 

“What’s goin’ on?”

 

Margaery cleared her throat and shook her head, but Loras stood. “She’s more than shaken up by what happened in town. I’m trying to convince her to go to Highgarden.”

 

She groaned and got to her feet. “I’m capable of speaking for myself, and I’m certainly able to defend my family if I choose.”

 

Robb shoved his hands in his pockets. He understood both sides and hated to see the siblings fight. “Loras, give us some time alone, please.”

 

“I won’t be talked into leaving you, Robb,” she hissed.

 

Loras left the room, giving him a pleading glance. Robb closed the door behind him, and stepped forward, pulling her into his arms. “Are you alright?”

 

She let out a shaky breath against his neck. “It just all hit me with Roose. Do you think he would have tried something?” Her voice was soft and full of fear.

 

He sat on the bed and brought her down on his lap. “Yeah, probably. Just to hurt Jon and Dany, or win points with Tywin,” he said softly, giving voice to the fears that still bubbled in his chest. “How long were you and Loras arguin’?”

 

“Since we came back to the house,” she answered, her fingers carding through his hair. “I understand his concern—“

 

“Do you?” he asked. “He knows the reality of the situation. People will die. In what form that takes, we don’t know, but come Friday, there will be dead bodies on this mountain. We’re hoping we’re not any of em, but we ain’t got no guarantees.”

 

She shook her head. “I told you—“

 

“And I’m tellin’ you that things are gonna get real bad here. You got our baby inside ya. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t _try_ to talk you into leavin’.”

 

She stood from his lap and paced in front of him. “And what? Sit and wait with my grandmother? Hope my husband doesn’t die? My brothers? No! If I’m here, with a gun, then that’s one more person watching your backs.”

 

“And what if one a’ us falls and you gotta watch it? What if that’s the last image you got in your head of one a’ your loved ones?” He shook his head. “It ain’t gotta be that way.”

 

“And what if I punish myself for the rest of my life thinking that if I _had_ been here I could’ve stopped it from happening. This started because of me—“

 

He stood and went to her, trailing his fingers down her cheek. “No, darlin’, it didn’t. How many times do I gotta tell ya? This fire was burnin’ _long_ before you married Joffrey. You’re just one spark in a ragin’ inferno.”

 

“Then you can’t ask me to leave,” she said softly, tears in her eyes.

 

He sighed and shook his head again. “I’m gonna ask ya every day, cause I love ya and I don’t want ya hurt. And you can refuse me every day, but I’m still gonna ask.”

 

She threw her arms around him and held him tight. “I love you, Robb.”

 

He closed his eyes and buried his nose in her hair, taking in her scent as he pulled her close. “I love you. More than I can ever say.” He pulled back and brushed his thumb across her temple. “And the thought of something happenin’ to you scares me in a way I can’t put words to. I’d give anythin’ to protect you, even if it meant you hated me for the rest a’ my life...I’d do it to see you safe. Sayin’ that, I do wish you’d go.”

 

She shook her head. “There is nothing you could do to make me hate you. But I’m not leaving you, or my family,” she whispered. She took his hand and placed it on her belly. “I’m fighting for all of us just like you are. You can keep asking, but I’ll keep saying no.”

 

He gave her a small smile as he rubbed his hand over her belly. “Alright. You should know that they’re plannin’ a little mission Wednesday night to get Tywin’s attention. I’m goin’ with them. Jon too.”

 

Her brows knit together harshly. “Why do you have to go? There’s so many people here...”

 

“Cause it’s my family they’re protectin’. And we fucked up with Ramsay. We wanna see it done right.”

 

She shook her head and huffed out a breath. “I don’t want you to go.”

 

“I know. But I’m goin’. Jeor and Bronn got a plan, a good one. We’ll take enough men with us and we’ll be smarter.” He placed a kiss on her cheek. “You’ll stay.”

 

She snarled her nose at him, still fretting. “I guess if you won’t get angry at me staying, I can’t get angry with you for deciding to go.”

 

He took her hand. “You could, and will.” He grinned and placed a kiss on her hand. “You alright? From earlier?”

 

She nodded. “I hope he’s stupid enough to come on this mountain Friday. I’ve got a feeling Dany and Jon will have a bullet with his name on it.”

 

“I reckon they do.”

 

*~*

 

He was carrying a tray of food over to Arya and Gendry’s when Jon met him half-way, trotting up from the barn. “How’s Margaery?”

 

“Sittin’ with Dany and Missandei talkin’. Figured she needed the break. She had a little argument with Loras earlier,” he said as he gave the Hound a nod and walked into Arya and Gendry’s. “She’s still blamin’ herself for all a’ this startin’, too.”

 

“Robb? Jon?” Gendry called from the bedroom and was soon making his way across the room to the table, Arya behind him. “Two visits in one day, I feel special.”

 

They all grinned. “Corn beef hash courtesy of my darlin’ wife,” he said as he placed the tray on the table and gave each of them a plate. “It’s delicious, too.”

 

Gendry tucked in and nodded. “It is.” He took another bite. “What’s Margaery blamin’ herself for?”

 

“The fight ‘tween us and Lannister. I told her over and over again it ain’t true and we think Tywin had our Pa's killed. She’s still takin’ it all on herself though,” he said with a sigh.

 

Jon cleared his throat. “Um, ‘bout that. I been meanin’ to talk to y’all,” he said, pulling out a chair and nodding for Robb to do the same. “Things just...sorta got crazy real fast and I ain’t had the chance.” Robb took a seat beside his brother, a heaviness settling in his stomach. Gendry and Arya had both stopped eating and were staring at him. Jon ran a hand down his face and pulled at his beard, before dropping his head and staring at his lap. Robb wanted to shake him. “When Dany and me rode out to meet with Tyrion he told us somethin’ ‘bout how Pa died.” He swallowed and Robb could see tears form in his eyes but he sniffed them away.

 

He closed his own eyes as if it would save him from the grief he knew was coming.

 

“Turns out, Cersei told your Pa a’ bunch of incriminatin’ stuff ‘bout Tywin...even gave em proof,” Jon went on. He cleared his throat and took a long pause and Robb's heart went to racing, knowing the information would probably break him if it was making Jon react this way. “But y’all know what the town thought of Robert. His reputation was shit even if he had a little bit a money to back it up. No offense, Gen. But he knew nobody would believe em, so he went to the one man he called a friend, to help spread the word and bring down Tywin.”

 

Robb opened his eyes, unable to avoid the need to know it all. His brother took a labored breath and shook his head. “Cersei told Tywin what she did...and...he had our Pa’s killed, made it look like they did it to each other,” he finally finished, trailing off in a whisper.

 

Robb flexed his fingers, and gripped the edge of the table. “We were right.”

 

Jon nodded. “Our Pa’s were such good friends, that when Robert needed help, he turned to em.”

 

“They killed em in cold blood,” Arya said, her voice lifeless and chilling. “He...died in that...” she stood up and walked away from the table and into her bedroom.

 

Robb glanced over at Gendry who shook his head and wiped a tear away. “I didn’t know em well. Only remember meetin’ him three times. But he shouldn’t have been killed like that. Yours neither.” He glanced back at the bedroom and slowly stood. “Wrap that up for us, would ya? I’m gonna check on her.”

 

Robb nodded and met his brother's sorrowful dark eyes. “Can you?” he whispered. “I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

 

Jon reached over and put a comforting hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Go on, I got this.”

 

He was outside and walking past the main house before he realized where he was headed. Down to the spot in the woods that held so many fond memories for him. He was married under that tree. His Pa had been the one to string up the swing they had played on as kids. He sat beneath the branches on the cold ground, the faint light of the moon making everything glow blue and misty. He sensed Grey Wind before the wolf appeared and laid down beside him, whimpering. He reached out a hand and ran it through the wolf's soft fur, the simple action bringing him a touch of comfort.

 

Believing something and having it confirmed were two different things. He felt as if his lungs were seizing up, making it hard to draw a breath. He leaned his head back against the tree, immune to the cold he was so boiling mad. He had the urge to get into the car and run at the Lannisters full tilt. Then he remembered Tormund had it. He hated getting into Gendry’s truck, he could still smell the blood. No one else would let him use theirs either, he was stuck. Twisted and torn and tormented.

 

He’d never gotten to say goodbye, or thank you. His father was the best man he’d ever known and he’d been taken away from them. Taken from Rickon and Bran. They would never fully know how good a person Ned Stark was and for that alone Tywin Lannister deserved to die.

 

He didn’t wipe at the tears as they slid down his face. Too many god-awful things had darkened their door and there just came a point when a man took all he could take. His mother’s death during the war, his father’s after, the responsibility of his family depending on him, losing Margaery, getting her back, the raid on the farm, Arya and Gendry’s attack, sending the boys off, Dany’s attack… Lord Jesus, he was at a breaking point. His entire body shook with the anger and sadness of it.

 

Soft footfalls sounded down the newly built stairs. “When Jon said you had left, I thought you might be here,” her soft voice floated through the air.

 

He wiped his sleeve over his face and sniffed. “You should be inside. It’s too cold out here.”

 

She sank to her knees in front of him. His coat was wrapped around her. “What happened?”

 

He looked up at her and she appeared to be glowing, the soft light of the moon making her look more angel than woman. “Jon didn’t tell ya?”

 

“Only that you needed me,” she said as she moved forward between his knees and took his face in her hands. “What’s happened?” she asked nervously.

 

He licked his lips and shook his head. “I told ya. You were just a spark,” he whispered. “Tyrion...told Jon...Tywin had my father killed. Confirmed it and the reason why.” He shook his head again fighting uselessly at the fresh tears rolling down his face. “We always suspected. But hearing it made it real...”

 

She hugged him to her and he wrapped his arms around her tight, needing her strength. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually, he felt some relief to have released it all, and nothing but grateful for Margaery’s love and support. He pulled back and looked up at her as she stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “Let’s get you inside,” she offered and stood. She held out her hand for him to take and he did, clinging to it like the lifeline that it was.

 

She ushered him straight into their bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. She slipped out of his coat and sat him on the edge of the bed, taking his hands in hers. “You’re freezing, Robb,” she said gently and soon the quilt from the chair was wrapped around his shoulders. She left the room and returned a few moments later with the tea kettle and poured steaming water into the basin only to leave and return again.

 

He watched her remove the pins from her hair and walk across the room again with a hot water bottle and tucked it beneath the quilt on their bed. “Kick off your boots,” she ordered. He did as she asked and she went to the basin and brought it back with her, setting it on the floor at his feet. She rolled his britches legs up, and gently picked up one foot and then the other, placing them in the hot water. Her blue eyes rose to meet his, she smiled softly. “Feel better?”

 

He nodded, and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek, nearly overwhelmed by her and her love for him. A sudden scratching on the door had her rising to her feet. She opened it and allowed Grey Wind to enter. The wolf came to his side, sitting down and resting his head on his knee. His dark eyes sad and focus on him. He reached out and rubbed his hand over his big head, burying his fingers in the ruff around his neck. For all he had lost, he still had much.

 

Margaery lifted his other hand and held it between her own. “How do you feel? Still cold?”

 

He looked up at her and shook his head. “Sad. Angry.”

 

Her face fell and she stepped around his legs and hugged him to her. He breathed in her scent and rubbed his nose against the soft swell of her belly. His baby was growing in there. The next generation of Starks who he was determined to see thrive in life. They’d kill Tywin and anyone dumb enough to align with him.

 

He reached up and pulled her mouth down to his. Smart beast that he was, Grey Wind moved to rest by the door. Margaery seemed to understand what he needed and stripped out of her dress, slip, and underclothes. She stood before him gloriously naked and his only thought was to bury himself inside her until all that existed was the two of them. She dried his feet and undressed him even as his hands got in her way, trying to touch and squeeze every inch her supple flesh they could.

 

Finally, he was as bare as she was. His cock pulsed with need for her and the feel of her fingers on the heated skin had him moaning. He pulled her into the bed with him, their lips fused as he held her tightly in his arms, his heart pounding behind his ribs. She escaped and rolled to all fours beside him, beckoning him with a tilt of her head.

 

He moved with only the thought of being inside her, blinded to all else. His hands slid over her flanks and up to her round bottom. His fingers slid between her wet folds, spreading her arousal, and slipped two inside her. She moaned and dropped to her elbows as he began thrusting them in quick strokes, working fast and hard to push her near the edge. But he wouldn’t let her fall over. That would be for when he was buried deep inside her. The clenching of her walls around him, the bounce of her hips against his hands, her mewls of pleasure were all giveaways for how much more she could take. When he felt her shaking, he withdrew his fingers, a frustrated groan left her lips just before he thrust home.

 

Their moans mingled together and filled the room.

Nothing ever felt as good as being inside her. He dropped one hand beside her head to hold himself up and pressed kisses to her spine. She rocked back against him, telling him without words that she wanted him to take her. She knew what he needed and her willingness to give it seared his soul.

 

He sat up, gripped her hips and slid almost completely out before driving back in. Over and over again he took her, relishing in her sharp gasps and mewls. Then she spread her legs just a bit, changing her position, and clenched her inner walls around him. He groaned, his control breaking. His hips snapped against hers, the sound of their harsh breathing and skin slapping skin spurring him on as he drove hard and fast.

 

He’d pushed her to the edge. Her fingers brushed against his thrusting cock, her grip on him growing even tighter. Then she went completely still and all he knew were the familiar flutterings of her orgasm around his cock and her gasping breaths.

 

He kept going, trying to hold off, the building at the base of his spine, the tightening of his balls. His fingers dug into her flesh, not caring if he left bruises. He hoped he did! She was his and only his. With that possessive thought, the one he hated but allowed to consume him, he fell head first into his own climax, dropping forward from the force, his body arched over hers and his face pressed against her shoulder. He grunted and groaned and spent himself fully, shuddering and shaking.

 

His wife drew in a deep contented breath and kissed the hand that rested beside her head. It occurred to him that she might be uncomfortable, but she didn’t ask him to move and so they stayed that way for a while.

 

*~*

 

He hadn’t been able to sleep at all, his mind swirling with revenge and regret. Fearing his restless tossing and turning would wake Margaery, he finally got out of bed and stood at the window.

 

The glass was frosty, wet and cold to the touch as he wiped it clear with his hand. The glow of the Dothraki fires lit the night, giving him light to see by. It was snowing.

 

 _Winter is here_.

 

The first words his father had ever imparted to him were: _Winter is coming_. He remembered being huddled up with his band of brothers during the war, most of them complaining about the cold. _Winter is coming_ he warned them, always smiling, thinking of his Pa and his kind grey eyes.

 

During those long miserable hours, he warmed himself with thoughts of returning home, seeing his family again. Especially his Pa, knowing his smile would be a proud one, his hug strong. If he'd known then he'd never see him again, known of the malice that would take him from them...

 

He leaned against the window frame and watched the fat snowflakes fall, slow and soft. None of them stuck to the grass. Melting instead. The ground wasn’t cold enough yet, but it would be in a few days. They had a lot to do and little time to do it.

 

Soft hands moved around his waist. He jolted, unaware she had even climbed from the bed. “Can’t sleep?”

 

“Thinkin’,” he answered quietly.

 

He turned and wrapped his arms around her and she smiled up at him. “It’s snowing.”

 

He kissed her hair. “Aye.”

 

“ _Winter is here_. Your Pa said that every year at the first snow. But he'd always say it in a more ominous tone.”

 

He grunted. “Reckon he knew somethin’ we didn’t.”

 

She nodded. “That was always the case with him. _Winter is coming_. _The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives._ ”

 

Robb smiled and looked down at her. “You remember all that?”

 

She tightened her arms around him. “I spent as much time here as I did at home. Even more when you went off to war.” She pressed a kiss to his chest. “Your father knew how much I missed you, let me stay as often as I wanted, never made me feel like I was being a burden either. I think, once your mother passed, he was glad I was here to help with Rickon and even Sansa and Bran. There was no helping Arya, as you can imagine.” She took a deep breath. “He was good to me and for that I always respected him. And he loved you and Jon so much. He bragged on you both all the time. How brave you were, how he couldn’t wait to see you both again, and knew you were serving the family with honor. He would be so proud of you, Robb. When your family needed you most, you stepped in and found a way to make it all work. Kept your brothers together, helped your sisters, kept Jon from falling into himself. That was you.” Her fingers brushed away the tears as they fell. He was unaware he was crying until then. “And I’m proud to be your wife. You’re my soulmate. My perfect half. And I love you.”

 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, too,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

 

*~*

 

Morning came too soon, yet not soon enough. He never did manage any sort of restful sleep. Margaery had and still was. He got up, quiet as he could and dressed, hoping she'd be able to get a few hours more.

 

The house was quiet, dawn not far gone. He knew Jon was up and in the kitchen, the warm scent of coffee filled the air. His brother was at the sink, steaming mug in hand, looking out the window.

 

Robb took a mug from the cabinet and the pot from the stove and poured himself some. “Did ya see it snowed last night?” he asked in way of greeting.

 

Jon hummed, sipping his coffee. “Didn't stick to much, just the trees and shady spots.”

 

“Give it a few days.”

 

“Yup. Winter's here.”

 

They shared pained smiles and moved to sit at the table.

 

“Anybody else up yet?” he asked him.

 

“Bronn and Grey are on the porch, all I've seen so far,” Jon answered, and licked his lips, meeting his eyes for the first time. “Get any sleep?”

 

Robb knew he was really asking how he was after the news he'd shared the night before. There was only one answer to either question. He shook his head.

 

Jon let out a long, heavy sigh. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Ain't your fault. None of it.”

 

“Don't mean I ain't sorry.”

 

“Yeah, me too.”

 

Three knocks sounded against the house and they both stood, going to the front door. Davos’ pulled into their yard right after. He and Jon walked out to meet him, shrugging on their coats.

 

“Everythin’ alright?” Jon asked, already in the yard, his worry for Dany no doubt muddling his manners.

 

Davos nodded, his eyes shifting between him and his brother. “Wanted to have a word with you two, if ya got time.”

 

Robb liked Davos, always had. He was especially good to Jon, and he was grateful for it, but he couldn't help being antsy. He walked down the steps and faced the sheriff head-on, standing between him and Jon. “What's this about?”

 

Bronn and Grey were both standing at attention behind them, Davos eyed them. Robb looked over his shoulder and jerked his head at Bronn. The hired hand didn't look happy, but turned and went to the door anyway. Surprisingly, Grey didn't go in until Jon gave him a nod.

 

His brother shifted on his feet and shoved his hand in his pockets. “Whatever it is, just say it, Sheriff.”

 

Davos dropped his head and let out a sigh. “I ain't a hundred percent certain, but I'm sure enough.” He looked up at the two of them, his expression that of a disappointed father. Robb’s heart settled into the pit of his stomach. “You two, and maybe a couple others, tried to take out Ramsay and his boys. Didn't ya?”

 

He looked at his brother, he’d gone a shade paler, looking as sick as Robb felt. This was it, they'd pay for what they'd done. Hang, like he reckoned they deserved. They both went to speak at once, but Davos held up his hands.

 

“Don't,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don't say a word. That’s all the answer I needed and what I'm doin’ is wrong enough, I don't want details.”

 

Jon had a hand over his mouth, almost as if he had to physically hold back a confession from spilling out.

 

Davos stepped closer to them. “Roose insisted I follow him up to his hunting cabin,” he whispered. “There wasn't much, but we found blood and evidence Ramsay, Locke, and Polliver'd been there. I obviously didn't tell him my suspicions, played it like maybe the three of em musta had a fight, one of em shot at his boy, then the two of em took off knowin’ Roose himself would kill em for it.”

 

“He believe it?” Jon asked, a fragile hope lacing his voice.

 

Davos twisted his head, cutting his eyes between them. “Don't know that he did. Are Locke and Polliver still among us?”

 

Jon shook his head and Davos closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Lord help us,” he muttered.

 

“You said _, what you're doin’_ before _._ What does that mean?” Robb asked, ashamed at the shake in his voice.

 

He pinned them with his old faded blue eyes again. “What I'm gonna do is believe you had no choice. And I’ll be keepin’ what I know to myself, lettin’ men I know to be _good_ men, but sometimes not the smartest,” he paused and shook his head, “stay with your family where you belong.”

 

Jon wobbled on his feet a bit and Robb worried he might fall out on them, but he managed to stay upright. He still looked green around the gills though, and he couldn't blame him. He didn't feel so good himself.

 

“Thank you, Davos. Whatever we can do…” Jon said.

 

“Yes sir, thank you,” he echoed.

 

Davos shook his head again. “I know why ya did it, if I hadn't had a badge to stand behind I mighta done it myself, or at the very least went with ya.”

 

“We owe ya, like Jon said, whatever we can do,” he reiterated.

 

“Be smarter and stay alive,” he told them. They both nodded. “Ros came ta see me, I know they're comin’ for ya. Y'all ready?”

 

“As ready as we can be. We know when, too. Friday.” Jon offered.

 

“I plan on bein’ here.”

 

Jon shook his head. “Davos, you ain't gotta do that.”

 

“I know it, but I'm gonna. They've done too much to too many, and me with my damn hands tied unable to stop em. I can be a witness, prove it's all self-defense. You know they’ll bring their own lawman. Might as well have one of your own.”

 

They all shared a smile, but Jon's faltered. “I don't want ya gettin’ hurt. All these people comin’ to help us, someone's bound to get shot up.”

 

Robb didn't like it any better than his brother did. The guilt they'd have to carry if someone died for them… it was already heavy on his heart.

 

Davos walked to Jon and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze and a shake. “You boys would do the same for any of us, wouldn't ya?” He and Robb both nodded. “Alright then. An don't worry, I'll be bringin’ Sam with me. He's insisted. He'll pull any bullets out that need pullin’. I'll make sure he stays outta harm's way till then.”

 

 

 


	28. Come Take My Worries Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are made, an attack is planned, Jon and Dany hold close to one another as the devil finally comes to their door. 
> 
>  
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gorgeous mood boards were made by the talented justwanderingneverlost. 
> 
> We're really getting to the pinnacle of it all. We hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
> 
> And to my co-author, JW, you worked your ass off to make this chapter something really special and I think it shows. Thank you for you all your support and for making it seem like I'm a capable writer ;)
> 
> The song sung in this chapter is "Angel Eyes" by Ella Fitzgerald.
> 
>  
> 
> **Trigger Warning: Graphic Violence**

 

 

 _Some sing in bring in the rain_  
_You set the world on fire_  
_Some people call me insane_  
_Know that they're a liar_  
_Lord, Lord, Lord, save our souls_  
  
_Come hither and sing it to me_  
_Sing so I can hear you_  
_Come take my worries away_  
_So I can see you clearer_  
_Lord, Lord, Lord, save our souls_  
  
_The night is nigh, the cotton is high_  
_Pass that jug around, honey moonshine_  
_Oh, the plains, the mountains so high_  
_Through the lonesome valley of our mind_  
_Honey, honey, honey, moonshine_  
  
_Honey Moonshine_  
_**The Haunted Windchimes**_

 

**JON**

  


Rokahrro had been his burly shadow for the last few hours. The Gypsy had done nothing but glare at him skeptically from the moment they met, Jon feeling his judgment with every move he made. He'd felt it from all of Dany's family since they'd arrived, but knew most of that was his own insecurities rising up. They were far too close to the surface since she’d been attacked, none of her assurances able to banish them back to the hidden corners of his soul.

 

After Davos’ visit that morning, and his reassurance he was on their side, he felt a little better, but then guilt seeped back into his gut. Davos was one more person, in a long list of people putting their life on the line for them.

 

The only burden he was able to put aside was that of Dany's family. Without a doubt, they were there for her, and each and every one of them was willing to die for her too. Especially Rokahrro. Jon wasn't the smartest man, but he could tell the gang leader loved her. His face read just as Jon's heart felt when he looked at her. The hate-filled expression he had for Jon tied up the assumption nice and tight.

 

But the Dothraki's dark scowl had disappeared once Jon introduced Ghost to him that morning. He seemed enthralled by the relationship Jon had with the white wolf. He’d mumbled something about 'pure and fearless’ and 'worthy Khal’, then took to following him everywhere. Jon had tried to shake him lose an hour before, going to Dany for help, but she had only smiled and kissed his cheek telling him how happy she was to see them getting on.

 

He couldn't work out if his giant shadow was her doing or not, but she was smiling, he'd suffer anything for that. And having another strong back and set of arms to help him chop wood was a gift he wouldn't be turning his nose up at either.

 

“Khaleesi says you make fine drink,” Rokahrro grunted, taking another swing. The log split with a sharp crack, the pieces flying to the ground.

 

Jon grinned, recognizing the statement for what it was. He glanced over at him, sticking his axe in the block before wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve. “Wanna try some? Think we have a few cases left. Should be aged good, haven't made a new batch lately.”

 

“Yes, I would,” Rokahrro said, nodding sharply.

 

Holding back a laugh, Jon motioned for him to follow him to the barn. They’d chopped up enough wood to last a few more days, they could afford a short break. “Snow’s comin’, might let all y’all have some. Help keep ya warm. So long as ya don't let em all get three sheets to the wind. Won't be much help if they can't see straight.”

 

“No, I will make them take turns.”

 

Jeor and his son were in the barn when they got there, along with Bronn and a few more of Rokahrro's men. The large group had been working in shifts nearly around the clock since arriving. They'd already finished insulating the walls in the main house and repaired the old barn. The new one was nearly finished as well. He missed the quiet and sanctuary his home had provided. He wasn't used to being surrounded by so many people, but what they were doing for them… He'd be forever grateful.

 

He nodded a greeting to the group and went over to the hatch, squatting down and sweeping away the dirt and hay before lifting the door and jumping in. By the time he emerged with a case of shine, there was a circle of faces looking down on him. He passed the case off to Rokahrro. “Folk's 'round here call it the Wolf's Bite. But for us, it was just a way to keep us warm and fed, take care of our brothers.”

 

Jorah pulled a jar from the case and popped the lid with a twist. He, his father, and Rokahrro leaned in and took a whiff, all three giving him nods of approval. Jorah took the first taste. “Damn that's good. It’s sweet. What's in it?” He asked, passing it to his father.

 

Jon felt around until he found the jug he wanted and held it up.

 

Jorah’s eyebrows rose. “Honey?”

 

He grinned and put the jug back. “Yep. That's our secret.”

 

Jeor was licking his lips after his taste, holding the shine up to the sunlight. “Excellent brew, you need some oak barrels, age it into a whiskey,” he said, holding the jar out to Rokahrro.

 

“We never had time to age none of it, but the thought had crossed our minds.”

 

“Do you believe this is part of the reason Lannister has it out for your family?”

 

Jon shrugged. “Probably has somethin’ to do with it. His sheriff and his men have been involved almost every time they hit us. If nothin’ else they use the shine as an excuse to come after us. Don't know if he's worried we know what our father did ‘bout him, or if he just hates us cause we won't sit under his thumb like everybody else. It's almost like it's become a matter of pride to em to make us heel.”

 

Rokahrro sat out three jars and handed the case back to Jon. “Too fine to waste, save the rest for celebration.”

 

“What're we gonna celebrate?”

 

“The death of enemies.”

 

“It's time to finalize plans, Jon Snow,” Jeor told him. “Get everyone in here.”

 

*~*

 

They'd been in the barn for hours. Had gone over and over every possibility any of them could think of, and all the solutions to go with them. He was exhausted, weary straight down to his bones. The ground was hard and cold beneath him, despite the heat of Ghost pressed along his thigh. He shifted, the crate Dany was sitting on digging into his back. His eyes drooped, her fingers running through his hair pulling him under, deeper with every stroke. Bronn and Rokahrro's voices began to fade to a low murmur, reminding him of the spring that used to bubble up out behind the house.

 

All the summers they played in it. Aunt Cat hollering at them to get out. Pa chuckling behind her so she couldn't see. They'd get so muddy and inevitably get a whooping. But the threat of Aunt Cat and her hickory switch still wasn't enough to keep them out of it.

 

“Jon. Jon, honey. Wake up.”

 

He shot upright, heart pounding. Faces strange and familiar stared at him, some smirking, others showing only sympathy. Reality came back, dark and heavy. He looked around at Dany. She smiled softly and pointed at the door. “Robb wants you.”

 

His brother stood waiting in the doorway, giving him a grimace of apology, his face etched with their troubles. He looked ten years older. Jon stood and brushed the dirt and bits of hay from his britches looking at Dany. She was just as tired, shadowy purple smudges rested under her eyes. Her skin had grown shallow too. She made his chest ache with want to gather her up and run away. He'd barely left her side since…

 

“Go,” she whispered, taking his hand and kissing his palm. “I'll be fine.”

 

He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I'll be back in a few minutes.” He gave Ghost a look. “Stay with her.”

 

Robb stepped out of his way to let him through the door. “Sorry I woke ya up. Looked like you was sleepin’ good,” he said and started walking toward Arya and Gendry's.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

His brother shook his head. “Nothin'. Gendry just wants to see ya. He was gonna come get ya himself,” he smirked, “Arya sent me instead.”

 

“You sure he's alright?”

 

“Yeah, he's fine. As good as he's been anyway.”

 

He looked back at the main house. The porch light was on, the one over the kitchen sink, too. “You didn't leave Marg in the house alone, did ya?”

 

“Nah, she's been helpin’ Arya out.”

 

“Sorry, I've been–”

 

“Don't. It's alright. We understand.”

 

He nodded and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. They were quiet the rest of the way. He heard the rest of his family talking, their voices carrying through the screen door, but as soon as he and Robb stepped on the porch the conversation ended. Robb got the door and held it open for him.

 

Arya and Marg were at the table. Gendry was sitting in the rocker in front of the fire, a quilt folded up behind him. As a cushion Jon guessed. His ribs were still giving him fits. They all smiled at him, brighter than normal, their eyes shifting back and forth between each other. His heart began to pound.

 

He eyed them, one by one. Their awkwardness only got worse. “What're y'all up to?”

 

Gendry cleared his throat and waved him closer. He went and stood in front of him as Robb took a seat at the table.

 

His friend pulled an envelope out from under his thigh. He held it in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over it. The paper crinkled. It was thick, packed full. Jon's stomach did a queer roll sending pressure up into his chest.

 

“We all decided a while back to set some aside after each run,” Gendry said, smiling up at him. He held the envelope toward him. “Probably won't be makin’ any runs for a while and we're pretty sure it's enough anyway.”

 

Jon shifted on his feet and put his hands back in his pockets. He wasn't touching it. “ _We_ decided? Last I checked, I'm a part a’ that _we._ Nobody asked me.”

 

Arya scoffed. Robb shushed her while Gendry's mouth twisted to the side. He looked back down at the envelope before pinning Jon with those bright blue eyes again. His smile came back. Not overbright, but knowing.

 

“You woulda said no.”

 

“Damn right I would. And I'm sayin’ it now. _No_.”

 

“Jon,” Margaery said, drawing his name out into a plea, her eyes soft. Across from her Arya's were determined, cold and grey as a winter morning.

 

He pushed his hands over his head, turning away from them. _Why were they doing this? They knew he hated being pitied._ He faced them again, hands on his hips, the four of them still looking expectant, unwavering. _Tender._ He felt his foothold slipping. It made him angry and that made him ashamed. He dropped his head and stared at the scuffed toes of his boots. They were worn and thin. He needed new ones, had for a while. They all did.

 

“I can't take it. I...I appreciate it, I do. I love all a’ ya for thinkin’ a’ me, but you said it yourself, Gen. We won't be makin’ any runs for a while. If ever.”

 

“Jon, don't say that,” Robb warned.

 

“I don't wanna say it, but somebody's gotta. We need that money in case some of us don't come through this. The boys will need takin’ care of.”

 

“My grandmother has already promised us the boys will want for nothing,” Margaery told him. “Sansa said the same.”

 

He looked at Robb, questioning. His brother gave him a nod. “I asked her, well, forced her really, but she woulda done it anyway. And so would Sansa.”

 

“Alright, that's...I'm glad to hear it, gives me a bit more peace ‘bout things, but that still leaves the farm and Arya and Gendry,” he said, looking at his friend. Gendry just smiled sadly back at him.

 

Chair legs scrubbed harshly across the floor drawing everyone's attention to Arya. She was standing up, a fierce fire burning in her eyes. It was aimed directly at him. “You plannin’ on dyin’?” she snapped, “Is that it? You just gonna give up, sacrifice yourself?” She stormed towards him so quick he shuffled back two steps before he caught himself. She smacked her palms against his chest and he went back two more. “Tell me! Is that what you're doin’?”

 

He grabbed her wrists, careful to keep his grip easy. “Arya, calm down. I never said that.”

 

“Don't tell me to calm down! You ain't dyin’, you hear me? I almost lost Gendry, I ain't goin’ through it again. And you ain't doin’ that ta Dany neither!”

 

“Arya, c'mon. Stop yellin’ at em,” Gendry tried, reaching for her.

 

She swatted him away as if he were no more than a fly then pointed her finger in Jon's face, snarling like the she-wolf she was. “You're gonna live Jon. All a’ us are,” she insisted and snatched the envelope from Gendry, slapping it to his chest. “So, you're gonna take this money and go buy her a ring first thing in the mornin’. Then you're gonna ask her to marry ya and she's gonna say yes. You're gonna have a weddin’ and we're all gonna be there. You're gonna live on this mountain and have babies, just like the rest a’ us, cause we're all gonna be fine!”

 

Fat tears were streaming down her cheeks by the time she was finished, each one a bullet lodged in his heart. He didn't have to pull her close, she came willingly, letting out a wretched sob against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. _God, how he hated her to cry_. She was doing way too much of it lately.

 

He could feel the weighted stares of the rest of their family on him, their grief and brittle hopes stirring up his insides like the fierce winds of a winter storm. He needed to be strong and tell them no, but standing there holding his little sister as she cried, he knew he wouldn't be able to. They needed to believe there was a future to look forward to, to have a light at the end of the dark, godforsaken tunnel they were barreling down, just as much as he did.

 

“I'll take it, and I'll go in the mornin’, too.”

 

*~*

 

“Where are you going?” she mumbled into her pillow, barely awake, reaching a hand out for him.

 

He sat back down and leaned over, placing a kiss to her cheek. “I gotta run into town, meet with Tormund, let him know, remember?” he whispered. He wanted to crawl back under the covers with her. She was warm and soft and smelled so sweet it made him ache. They hadn't made love since that awful night. He couldn't bring himself to ask, and truth was they'd been too busy and tired to think much on it.

 

“You're not going alone,” she said, wide awake now, eyes bright with insistence.

 

He grinned and shook his head. “No, ma'am. Think Bronn wanted to go with me. If he don't, someone else will. I'll drag Sandor with me if I have ta,” he assured her.

 

She pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. Her big blue eyes were full of so much emotion he couldn't pin any of it down. “Come back to me, Jon Snow,” she whispered.

 

He took her in, every inch of her beautiful face, still in awe she was his and he was hers. He brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek, the wrinkles of her pillow still impressed into her soft skin. “I will. With you is the only place I wanna be.”

 

He kissed her and left the room before he gave into the need the lock them in and never come out.

 

Jeor was leaned against his car when he got outside, looking more than a little intimidating in his long black coat, his arms crossed over his expansive chest, expression daunting.

 

“Think I'll ride into town with you,” he said gruffly, standing straight and reaching for the door handle, his breath a white mist before him, “see these folks you say are on our side.”

 

Jon sure wouldn't be telling him 'No', so he nodded and walked to the driver's door, tugging his cap down tight. It was colder than a well digger's knees outside, nearly every inch of the mountain was covered in frost, looking like a winter wonderland.

 

They were halfway down the mountain before Jeor spoke. “Daenerys is a special girl. Ones like her don't come along often.” The tone of his voice said much more than his words had.

 

Jon had been waiting for it, knew he was bound to get some type of third degree. Jeor was as close to a father figure as Dany had. He would've lost a lot of respect for the man if he didn't give him a hard time, at least a little.

 

“No sir, they sure don't. She deserves better than me, I know that.” He shook his head. “Only thing I got to give her is my heart. An for some reason that seems to be enough for her.”

 

Jeor chuffed. “She wouldn't settle for any less than what she wanted. Not any more. Those days are long behind her.”

 

He pulled the envelope out of his coat pocket and laid it on the seat between them. “I don't know that I'll ever feel truly worthy of her, but if it's me she wants I ain't gonna deny her. Plan on doin’ a bit of shoppin’ this mornin’ ‘fore we meet up with everyone. I'll buy her the fanciest ring I can and ask her proper, pray she don't suddenly realize she could do much better.”

 

Jeor glanced at the envelope but didn't bother picking it up, his eyes going right back to the road in front of them. He was silent for long enough Jon thought the conversation might be done, but his gruff lilting voice came again, “I suppose you know by now, you ever hurt her, you won't be long for this world.”

 

Jon huffed out a weak laugh and tilted his head as he looked over at him. “Trust me, I know. Breakin’ her heart would be like breakin’ my own. You have my word, I'll love her with all I am as long as she'll let me.”

 

“Make her happy, give her a few babies to love on, and she'll make you happy too. Treat her like the queen she is and you'll be her king.”

 

He nodded and gave him a smile.

 

Jeor's beefy hand reached across the seat, Jon let go of the wheel and shook it. “Welcome to the family, Jon Snow.”

 

*~*

 

Jeor made himself scarce as soon as they got to the store, wandering over to the dry goods as Jon approached the counter. Brienne was manning it as usual.

 

“Jon, how are you? How's Miss Storm?” she asked, her smile concerned.

 

He nodded. “I’m alright, and she's makin’ it. I'll let her know you asked after her.”

 

“Please do.”

 

He cleared his throat and rubbed his sweaty hands down his britches. “I don't think I ever said thank you the other night.” Brienne shook her head and held up a hand, but he kept going. “Whatcha did, I'll forever be grateful, we both will.”

 

She nodded solemnly. “It was my honor. Your lady is something special.”

 

He smiled and took a deep breath. “Yes, ma'am, she is. That's why I'm here. Most of the reason anyway.” He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and laid it on the counter, sliding it to her. “Need a ring, best one that'll buy.”

 

Brienne's face lit up, her smile wide, eyes bright. “Follow me, I don't have many, but I think I have several you might like.”

 

She motioned him around the counter, taking his envelope with her. He followed her down to the other end where a large wall of drawers stood. She pulled out a set of keys and unlocked one about waist high, opening it up.

 

At least two dozen rings lay glistening in their dark velvet bed. Jon had never seen such. There were sparkling stones of all different shapes and sizes, colors too. They sent him into a bit of a panic, suddenly unsure of what Dany would like best. What if he picked the wrong one and she hated it?

 

He swallowed and rubbed his hands down his britches again. “I didn't know there’d be so many.”

 

“The jewelry store over in Chattanooga has hundreds,” Brienne told him, smiling still.

 

“Well I'm glad y'all don't,” he blurted out in a gush of air.

 

She laughed softly. “We can narrow it down. Some of these will be too big for her. You can choose from the smaller sized ones.”

 

He winced, his worry digging deeper. “I ain't got any idea what size she wears.” He'd barely even got started and he was already making a mess of it. His coat was suddenly smothering him. He slipped out of it and threw it over the counter, jerking on the front of his shirt to get some air.

 

Brienne shook her head at him, her light blue eyes shining. “Miss Storm is at least half my size, so let's go with the fours and fives.” She looked at the tags on each ring and picked out six, placing them in a line. “That should make it easier for you.”

 

The rings twinkled at him like frost in the weak winter sun, beckoning and beautiful. “I can afford all a’ these?”

 

Brienne opened his envelope, thumbed through the money, and gave him a nod. “You sure can.” Her eyes darted over his shoulder and she grinned just as someone grabbed him from behind and shook him.

 

“What're you doin’, Jon Snow?” Tormund growled softly in his ear. “Finally gonna make an honest woman out of that fine lady a’ yours?”

 

His face heated and twisted into a grimace as he looked at his friend, shame filling him for not doing this sooner. His old demons rose up, all sorts of nasty things filtering through his mind. Everyone in town probably thought the worst of her because of him. Some no doubt thinking he was no better than his daddy.

 

“Tormund, you hush that!” Brienne hissed at her husband and he immediately lost the teasing glint in his eye, replacing it with a genuine smile.

 

“I’m happy for ya, my friend,” he declared, wrapping him up in a crushing hug and pounding on his back, “Ya both deserve the best and that's what ya got.” He let him go and studied the rings, quickly pointing at the third one. “You should pick that one. Looks like a snowflake. That's right fittin’ if you ask me.”

 

Jon had to admit that one had caught his eye the most out of all of them. “I don't know. Don't ya think she might think that's silly? Makes me kinda feel like I'd be braggin’ too.”

 

 _“Braggin’?”_ Tormund slapped his back and Jon nearly fell into the drawer from the blow. “You worry too much, my friend. Talk some sense into this boy's head, Brienne.”

 

“I think she would love that one. She will be a Snow… And it would be like she had a part of you with her all the time,” she said, smiling softly, almost dreamily, her cheeks a bit flushed.

 

The sweet sentiment seemed odd coming from Brienne, she didn't come across as tender or one who would go for such romantic notions. Jon silently scolded himself for thinking so, he knew better than to judge people.

 

He picked up the ring, imagining the moment he’d ask, if he managed to stay alive long enough. He could see her smile, bright as a summer day, her beautiful eyes shining with tears, her sweet voice whispering _yes,_ all of it making his heart swell up and threaten to spill out of his chest.

 

He looked between his friends and smiled. “I'll take it.”

 

*~*

 

Tormund sounded the call once Jon had finished his shopping. All those who had agreed to help passed the news from one to the next, under the guise of friendly visits. It took an hour or so, but they all began to trickle in, meeting up at the Crow brother's farm since it was far enough out of town the crowd wouldn't be noticed. Edd had left Grenn and Pip at the station, promising they would be there to fight when it counted.

 

Jon's heart felt overfull as the numbers grew. He knew they weren't all there just for the Stark's, Lannister had trampled over many on his rise to power, but it still did him good to see so many willing to stand with them.

 

Tormund of course, Oberyn, Theon and Yara, Edd, Renly Baratheon, Howland Reed, a couple of Dany's neighbors, and Sam too.

 

Jeor was pleased as well, patting his back just before speaking to the group. “If Daenerys’ opinion wasn't enough, seeing all of these folks gathered to help you would've done it.”

 

He smiled a bit, grateful to have his approval reaffirmed, but as he listened to Mormont speak to his neighbors about their plans it faded. While their numbers gave them better odds, he didn't want any of these people dying for him or his family. Most were lifelong friends, some even going back to his Pa. While he would do the same for them if the shoe was on the other foot, he couldn't shake the burden he felt for having them involved. He'd ask Tormund to keep them as far from the fight as possible, do what he could to make sure they all made it out alive.

 

Once Jeor finished and all seemed in agreement, Tormund bellowed for them all to go home and rest up, oil their weapons and count their bullets. Jon shook a few hands, gave his thanks and that of his family's and watched them leave, save one.

 

Oberyn strolled over to him, grinning devilishly and throwing him a wink. “Your lady grows more interesting by the day, Snow.” Jon narrowed his eyes at him before he could stop himself. Oberyn chuckled and slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close and slapping Jon's chest with his other hand. “Stop your brooding. She chose you, I would never question the choice of a lady such as her,” he purred in his ear. “I will envy you though, you lucky bastard. Tease you too, because it is the only joy I will ever find from you and your lady.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes and shrugged him off while Oberyn continued to grin.

 

“Introduce me to that old bear of a man. He seems to be the one in charge, yes?”

 

He nodded and took him on over to where Tormund and Jeor were talking. Oberyn had agreed to help, he might as well know all he could. “Jeor Mormont, Oberyn Martell,” he introduced them. “He's been wronged by Tywin and his crew as well.”

 

The men shook hands. “Any enemy of his is a friend of ours,” Jeor said.

 

Oberyn nodded and cleared his throat. “This Lorch you plan to take tonight... I would ask to go along. He beat my sister, raped her, left her for dead like garbage. I had to watch her die, was the worst thing I ever experienced. Watching the life drain from him would be one of the best.”

 

Jeor's brow twisted and he studied the Mexican for a long moment. Oberyn didn't falter, never even blinked, dark and stoic as a mountain. Finally, Jeor nodded. “You're welcome to join us, I'll not deny a man justice, but you play by our rules. We can't afford any loose cannons.”

 

Oberyn nodded and pulled a knife from his belt, the blade wicked and lethal, gleaming in the early afternoon sun as he twirled it deftly between his fingers. The spark in his black eyes was just as deadly.

 

If Jon had been a different man he may have turned yellow and ran, instead he stood fast, held in place by the thick tension, though he and Tormund exchanged worried glances. But Jeor had only raised his eyebrows at the Mexican's threatening show. It brought a grin to Oberyn's face.

 

“Let me slit his throat, and the Martell's will forever be in the debt of Lady Storm,” he said, voice smooth and cold as ice.

 

“Daenerys Targaryen,” Jon corrected him, even though her true name still felt odd in his mouth. She would always be his Dany.

 

Oberyn turned to him, his face twisted and vexed. “Lady Storm has such a nice ring to it though, don't you think? More sinister.” Jon didn't budge. Oberyn gave a shrug. “As you wish.” He looked to Jeor again. “Daenerys Targaryen will forever have my loyalty.”

 

“And Snow and his family?” Jeor asked.

 

Slowly drawing his hands out, Oberyn smiled. “But of course.”

 

“Be on the mountain by sunset then,” Jeor told him.

 

“I will be there with bells on.”

 

*~*

 

The bubble of restlessness that churned in his stomach as he sat and waited in a car with the Mormonts and Oberyn was nearly more than Jon could take. His every nerve was lit and ready for action.

 

Half the Dothraki waited at the end of Ros’ drive in the bushes while the others scattered themselves amongst the trees on the left of the road. The deep ravine to the right prohibited any hiding unless they were keen on falling into an early grave.

 

It all happened so fast, so smoothly, as if Lorch had been a part of the planning all along, or they had somehow pulled him straight into their trap with an invisible chain.

 

Headlights came straight for them, the car skidding to a quick stop in front of theirs. Bronn pulled in right behind it and they both turned their lights on.

 

It could've been the bright glow from the headlights, but Jon swore Amory paled as his body heaved with panicked breaths.

 

“Think he’ll try to go ‘round?”

 

Jeor grunted. “That’s why the Dothraki are at the end of the driveway. We’re simply a distraction to get him where we want him to go.”

 

As if he'd been waiting for the words, Amory gunned it, whizzing past them on the right. Bronn followed close behind and Jeor had the car turned around and was on their tail in no time. But they weren’t needed to pin him in, by the time they reached the end of the drive, Lorch's car was of no use, nose first in the ditch on the other side.

 

The Dothraki snatched the dazed man from behind the wheel, quickly tying and gagging him, before shoving him in the car with Bronn and Robb. His car was pulled from of the ditch, and Jeor got out and took the wheel as Jon slid over to take his place. He glanced back at Jorah as he led the way out. “I know we went over it for hours last night, but this feels well rehearsed.”

 

“Not the first time we’ve done this,” he responded. “The Dothraki are especially good at rounding up people who don’t want to be caught.”

 

Jon's eyes caught on Oberyn's in the rearview mirror. He grinned, but there was nothing teasing about it. It was sharp as a knife, its implication clear. Justice would be found tonight. They made the rest of the ride to the Lannister Estate in silence.

 

Jon slowed and pulled off the side of the road just out of sight from Lannister's gate, Bronn and Rokahrro followed suit. Jeor drove around, waving his hand outside the window. They cut their lights, inching forward, waiting for the signal; a muzzle flash.

 

Through the darkness they watched Jeor pull up to the gate. The guard promptly came out, no doubt wanting to know his purpose at such a late hour. A muzzle flash lit up the night and the guard dropped like a stone. Keeping their lights off, they closed in, all of them getting out to do their part. Jon and Robb stood back with Bronn and Oberyn, eyes watchful and guns at the ready in case the guard had called in reinforcements.

 

Dany’s men slit the throat of the guard for good measure, then proceeded to hang him by his wrists from the top of the gate.

 

Amory had been drug out of Bronn's car and sent to his knees in front of all of them. He'd pissed his pants. And was blubbering like a babe.

 

Jorah slowly walked to him, stopping and standing over him. He let Amory rant and rave for a while, then beg and plead, shaking like a leaf on a tree. “I think you already know you’re not going to live through this,” he said. “Working for a man such as Tywin Lannister, you had to know you'd meet a nasty end. You’ve wronged every man here.” He pointed to Jon and Robb. “Tormented their family for no good reason,” his finger went to his father and Rokahrro, then himself, “helped kill our friend, Aerys Targaryen, his sweet, beautiful wife... There’s no doubt in our minds that Tywin trusted anyone other than you for a job like that.” He shook his head and grinned. “He shouldn’t have trusted you though. You missed one.” Amory stared back at him in confusion, shaking his head, sputtering nonsense. Jorah leaned in close. “Daenerys Targaryen sends her regards.”

 

As the man's eyes widened in shock, Jeor gave a nod and Oberyn stepped forward, his blade glinting at his side. He sneered at Lorch, spitting on his face. “For my sister.” His knife flashed across Lorch's throat. A rush of scarlet, shiny and shimmering poured forth, down his white shirt to pool upon the cold ground as he twitched and gargled. His body went limp, falling to the driveway with a squelching thump. Oberyn stepped away, wiping his knife on his shirt as he walked back to the cars.

 

The body was checked, no pulse found, and the Dothraki strung him up the same as the guard. The only difference was his shirt ripped open, and the words _fire and blood_ carved into his skin by Rokahrro.

 

Amory’s car was doused with gasoline and lit on fire, then everyone hurried back to their cars and sped off. They made it back to the mountain with no trouble, hiding the cars in the barns. The Dothraki spread out and hid in their respective places, just in case Tywin’s group decided on immediate retaliation. Bronn didn’t think they would, Tywin was too calculated, too controlled, but Jon worried nonetheless.

 

When he entered the house, Dany was there waiting. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. “Everything go alright?”

 

Jon held her close, breathing her in, letting her calm his nerves. “Like clockwork. Your group is efficient.”

 

Robb nodded as Margaery released him from their embrace. “In the scariest way possible.”

 

Dany gave him a sad smile. “I told you what my family was.”

 

“You did. I’m glad you’re on our side,” Robb said with a wink.

 

Margaery looked at her. “What now?”

 

“We go to bed. If something happens, the Dothraki will let us know. You’ll hear them before you ever see them.”

 

*~*

 

“Did they scare you?” her quiet voice came from beside him.

 

They'd been in bed awhile, both silent, holding the other's hand beneath the thick layers of quilts covering them. Thumbs and fingers sliding over knuckles.

 

He thought on her question, needing the best words to reassure her. His nerves had been sharp as razors during their dark errand, but fear had never taken him. “I was just on edge. Alert, I reckon. If there was any fear it was from expectin’ Tywin's men to walk out of the night and start shootin’ at us.”

 

“Am I really any different from him?”

 

He scowled, thrown off by the question. “What?” Then it hit him, who she meant. He scoffed. “Tywin? Dany, you ain't—”

 

Her hand tightened around his. “I have a gang of men at my command, every one of which would kill for me with just a word, or a nod of my head. How am I different?”

 

The pain laced amongst her words tore at his heart. He turned toward her, she was only a shadow in the darkness, the moonlight snuffed out by the thick blanket of clouds providing little to no light in their room. He laid an arm across her, rubbing over her hip. “You ain't nothin’ like him,” he protested softly. “You don't use em to torment people or kill on a whim or cause someone's in your way. You're usin’ em to right wrongs. To protect us.”

 

“What about the guard tonight?” she asked, her voice grieved, weak and wavering. “What did he ever do to any of us?”

 

He reached up and found her face, cupping her cheek. The dampness that met his touch twisted his chest so tight he could hardly breathe. “Dany, you can't do this to yourself. That guard knew who he worked for. Like the men in the war. I didn't have time to stop and ask em if they was good or bad ‘fore I pulled the trigger. They fought for the enemy. It was kill or be killed. That guard would've shot all a’ us, called in more to help him if we'd given him the chance.”

 

She didn't respond for a long time, and he worried over what else he could say to help her, but finally, she responded, “Part of me knows you're right, but the other…” She rolled over and faced him, slinging her thigh over his hip. Her fingertips grazed through his scruffy beard.

 

He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips. “I am right. You tell me all the time how good I am and I went out with every intention of killin’ men to protect you a week ago. Went tonight, prepared to do it again if needed. And if they come up this mountain I won't be layin’ down for em. They took from us, Dany. Killed our parents, hurt us and the ones we love. They want us dead and gone.” He pulled her closer, tucking her into his chest and took a deep breath. Getting riled up wouldn't help her. “You ain't him and you never will be. You got a good heart and he don't have one at all.”

 

She settled herself closer and pressed a kiss to his chest. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, lass,” he echoed, kissing the top of her head. “Do you believe me?” She nodded and he let it go. He knew deep down she did, but even she had moments of weakness. He went back to rubbing up and down her spine and playing with her hair. “Try to rest. Gotta ‘nother busy day tomorrow.”

 

Dany fell asleep in his arms soon after, while he prayed for God to please not take them from each other, and outside, Ghost and his siblings howled a mournful song.

 

*~*

 

Robb was knocking on their door just after daybreak, muttering something about visitors. He had several heart attacks before the word _friendly_ clicked in his brain. He collapsed back onto the bed, half dressed and panting, with his gun in his hand.

 

“I’ll have words with him for that,” Dany mumbled behind him.

 

He grunted and laid down beside her. “You and me both.” She snuggled up to him and he let himself catch his breath and his nerves calm again. He was about to drift off when she rubbed his chest. “Guess I better go, huh?” he grumbled. She kissed his cheek and he turned to look at her. Though her eyes were open, they were heavy with sleep. “You alright?”

 

She hummed and kissed him again. “I'm fine. Go see who it is. The sooner you go the sooner you can come back to me. I'd rather you not be out of my sight today.”

 

He kissed her back and promised to return soon before hopping up and dressing properly and grabbing his coat.

 

He spotted Tormund on the porch as soon as he stepped out of the hallway, then noticed the group behind him. It was spitting snow, the morning cold and gray. Their friends stood there, bundled up against it, packs slung across their shoulders, guns in hand or holstered at their hips. His heart equal parts grave and grateful, he walked out and greeted them all.

 

The next couple of hours was spent getting everyone settled and making sure they knew where to be. They really didn't know what to expect, or even when, despite Ros and Tyrion's warnings. But knew Tywin's group was coming, and more than likely would be armed to the teeth. Signals were worked out, different bird calls agreed upon for friend or foe. They'd take shifts watching the road with help from some of Dany's men, hiding in the trees as best they could.

 

Once the Lannister forces did show, they were to close in on them from behind, trapping them, but out of sight until given the signal. No one was to shoot unless fired on first.

 

Tormund and Oberyn grumbled at that, but Jon made it clear none of his family wanted anyone dying for them or winding up behind bars. And no one would be staying that didn't agree. They didn't like it, but they conceded anyway.

 

He and Bronn took them by the truckload down the mountain, stopping and walking each and every one of them to their hiding spots. The post at the head of the road was Tormund's. He knew everyone in town and out of it. Their cars and trucks too. He'd be the judge on who was ally or adversary. Brienne would be swapping out with him. Edd, Grenn, and Pip took up the next few spots, knowing most everyone as well.

 

They spread everyone else out all the way back up to the houses. Then did a few run-throughs of the signals to make sure they could all hear one to the next. By the time they were done Jon was dragging his feet, his long sleepless night catching up to him.

 

He'd skipped breakfast too and his stomach was quarreling, making him feel weak. And he needed to check on Dany. He hadn't seen her out and about yet in all his running around. He made his way inside, tipping his hat at the two Dothraki on the porch. The house was quiet, despite the number of bodies within it. Loras and Garlan were snoring in the living room. Grey sat reading in a corner, a pistol in his lap. He found Margaery and Robb in the kitchen, talking softly as they stood at the sink doing dishes.

 

Marg gave him a smile and nodded toward the stove. “There's a couple of biscuits in there, some bacon too. Kept it warm for you.”

 

“Thanks.” He grabbed a towel and pulled the warm pan out of the oven. “Sorry for the trouble.”

 

“No trouble,” she said, “Dany snuck some for you before anyone else started.”

 

He nodded his head, his mouth full of biscuit and bacon. He swallowed it down a took a sip of coffee. “Where is she?”

 

Margaery smiled. It was her sneaky one, her eyes twinkling and mouth twisted. Robb was grinning at him too. His stomach tightened wondering if they were cooking up another surprise for him. Just as his brother went to open his mouth to hopefully tell him, Margaery elbowed him hard.

 

“Ow!” Robb quarreled and laughed. “I wasn't gonna say nothin’.”

 

She scowled at him. “Yes, you were.” Then she looked back at Jon and tilted her head toward the bedrooms, smiling again. “She's in your room with Missandei. Go see.”

 

Jon shoved the rest of the biscuit in his mouth and did as she said, his hunger no longer so important next to his curiosity.

 

The door was shut, so he knocked first. Dany's voice carried through the wood telling him to come in. He did, freezing halfway through the doorway, confusion and shock gluing his feet to the floor and nearly causing him to choke on his biscuit.

 

Coughing, he stared, wide-eyed. Dany sat primly perched on a chair in front of his dresser mirror, Missandei standing behind her, combing her hair.

 

Her _short, blond_ hair.

 

Gone were her long, dark, and silky tresses, replaced by a full wavy bob. It shone like spun silver. Pale as the moon. He'd always wanted to see it, had tried to imagine it, but even seeing her picture hadn't prepared him. She was—

 

“You don't like it.”

 

Her soft worried voice broke him from his stunned daze. He shook himself and focused. Fretting hands tugged at the ends of her hair, her brow twisted over anxious eyes as she chewed on her bottom lip.

 

He went to her, pulling her up to her feet and shook his head. “I love it,” he breathed, running careful hands over it. He wanted to delve his fingers into it, to feel it slip through them like water, but it was done just so, he couldn't bring himself to mess it up. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone with prettier hair, and certainly not anywhere close to the moonlit color of hers.

 

“Do you really?” she asked, blinking up at him. “You aren’t just saying that? I know it's a big change, but—”

 

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, because he wanted to, and to stop her fretting. They were both breathless by the time he let her go, and alone. Missandei having slipped out at some point.

 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, tracing the shiny wave that edged her face with his finger. Her eyes popped and shined, sparkling against the milky glow of her skin and hair.

 

“Thank you,” she replied, smiling finally. “I hoped you’d like it.”

 

He snorted. “It's on your head, course I'd like it. Don't ya remember how speechless I was at seein’ your picture? What made ya decide to do it now?”

 

She was blushing and had dropped her eyes to her hands where they rested against his chest. “It was time I stopped being a ghost.” She looked up, determination lighting her eyes, all signs of her nerves gone. “When he comes up this mountain I want him to see Daenerys Targaryen. I can't hide behind Dany Storm anymore. I hope you understand.”

 

He slid his hands down her back, resting them on her lovely backside, and smirked at her. “Does that mean I can't call ya Dany any more?”

 

She grinned and shook her head, fingering the buttons on his shirt, her long lashes brushing against her cheekbones. “No, I like the way you say it too much.”

 

He lifted her chin gently, bringing her eyes to his. “Good. Cause you're always gonna be my Dany. The most beautiful, amazin’ woman in the world.”

 

*~*

 

Dany leaned against his side as she talked with Missandei about the clubs where she and Grey performed. It all sounded decadent and far outside of what would be normal for him or his family. It made him wonder what she found so interesting in him.

 

“I’ve told them all you have the most beautiful voice,” Dany said and grasped her friend’s hand. “Margaery’s voice is lovely as well.”

 

Margaery waved her off. “I only sing for Rickon.”

 

“You still sing beautifully,” she assured her and turned to Missandei. “Sing for us?”

 

Missy's eyes narrowed then she gave her friend a sly smile. “Only if you sing with me.”

 

Dany balked immediately. “You know I can’t sing as well as you.”

 

“That’s your father talking,” Missandei responded and dragged Dany into the living room with her. He, Robb, and Marg followed. Grey looked up as they entered. “Darling, would you mind playing for us?” Missy asked him, “Dany is going to sing with me.”

 

Jon smiled in amusement as he settled in the armchair. The piano sat in the corner, locked to keep Rickon from banging on the keys. It had been horribly out of tune, even when they were youngin's, and the only one who ever learned to play from Cat had been Sansa. But with Grey’s arrival, he’d been working to tune it, even repaired a broken string inside. Turned out he always kept spares with him, said most instruments just needed a little care to be new again.   

 

Margaery sat on Robb’s lap at one end of the sofa, Jeor took up the other end. He was laid back and half asleep, a grandfatherly smile on his face.

 

“What shall we sing?” Dany asked.

 

Missandei leaned down and whispered in Grey’s ear. His fingers floated over the keys with little effort, filling the house with the soft tune. Dany smiled at Jon as Missandei began to sing.

 

 _I try to think that love’s not around_  
_But it’s uncomfortably near_  
_My old heart ain’t gaining no ground_  
_Because my angel eyes ain’t here_  
  
Missandei’s voice was lilting and smooth as cream. It commanded attention though, soothed an aching soul.

 _Angel eyes, that old Devil sent_  
_They glow unbearably bright_  
_Need I say that my love’s misspent_  
_Misspent with angel eyes tonight_  


Dany sang through the second verse, her smile for her friend soft and happy. How he had missed it! Through all the trauma she had lost something of herself, but in that one moment with her friend, she was shining brighter than the sun. He wanted to relish it, hold it in time and never let it go.  

  
_So drink up all you people_  
_Order anything you see_  
_Have fun you happy people_  
_The laughs and the jokes on me_  
  
_Pardon me but I got to run_  
_The fact’s uncommonly clear_  
_Got to find who’s now number one_  
_And why my angel eyes_  
_Oh, where is my angel eyes_  
  
_Excuse me while I disappear_ _  
_ Angel eyes, angel eyes.

 

They had sung the rest of the song together, Dany taking the high while Missandei took the low. When they finished, everyone in the room clapped, even Loras and Garlan who stood in the doorway were smiling and clapping. Dany leaned over and hugged both Missandei and Grey.

 

She looked so carefree. And for a moment, he felt it with her. There was no evil man out to destroy his family. There hadn’t been a psychopath out to hurt her. There was no danger lurking around the corner. There was simply her bright smile, twinkling eyes, and her happiness. He could revel in it for now. Let her have her joy and bask in it with her.

 

He stood and asked Grey to please play something they could slow dance to. He complied with a smile and Missandei sat beside him on the bench. Jon held out his hand and bowed to Dany who only laughed and placed her hand in his. She moved into his arms, one hand moving around his shoulders, the other squeezing his hand. He barely registered Margaery and Robb following suit as Grey played and Missandei sang.

 

It was a beautiful moment, with a smiling and happy Dany in his arms. He’d trade almost anything for more moments just like it.

 

*~*

 

They laid in the dark again, just as they had the night before, and once again he was too wired to sleep. He could tell by her breathing she wasn't any closer herself.

 

“Did you ever get up and sing with Missy at the clubs?” he asked, having done nothing but try to imagine it since they had sung for them an hour ago. All he had to go on were her stories, but he could see her in one of her beautiful beaded dresses, hair in shining silver waves, her voice turning every heart into hers as she sang.

 

“Only a few times, usually to help her practice a new one, or after closing.”

 

“I know you think she's better ‘an you, but you're just as good.”

 

She huffed. “You love me, you have to say that.”

 

He turned and gathered her against him, giving her a squeeze and a kiss to her forehead. “I mean it.”

 

“I know you do.”

 

“You alright?” He didn't like how sad she sounded, the fleeting joy she’d been glowing with now snuffed out like a candle flame.

 

She nodded but stayed quiet. He could feel the distress coming off her, sense it beneath his hands. Their happy night hadn't helped at all. She was every bit the knotted anxious mess he was. A tangle of ropes, held fast, tense and hard as stone, needing patient, gentle hands to unsnarl the mayhem.

 

He knew what would ease them both, but he wouldn't ask. He'd wait, however long she needed. Holding her would do for now. Pressed against him as she was, her warmth soaked into his bones and his own knots began to loosen. He could feel hers do the same as he rubbed over her back in long slow strokes, only stopping to run his fingers into her hair and lightly massage her scalp every few minutes.

 

She pressed her nose into the hollow of his throat, her breath warm and teasing. His skin prickled as if reaching for her. “Make love to me, Jon.”

 

A shot ran through him, anticipation and anxiety sending his heart into a race. He slid his hand into the back of her hair and pulled away, looking down at her, blind but needy. “Are you sure?”

 

Her throat worked, he heard it, thick and strained. “If you'll still have me, I am.”

 

For as soft and fearful as her words had been they felt as if she'd slapped him. “Still have you? What’re you talkin’ about?”

 

“Well, you haven't seemed...you haven't—”

 

He couldn’t let her finish, the thought of hearing it out loud too cutting. “Dany, stop. You can't possibly think that.” He slid his hand around to her face and cupped her cheek, as an endearment and a guide, leaning in to find her lips with his own. He kissed her for a breath and then another before resting his forehead against hers. “Nothin’ has and nothin’ ever will make me stop feelin’ for you the way I do. You're everythin’ I ever dreamed I could have and more. The most amazin’ woman I know. I will love and want you till the day I die. That's a promise. I just wanted you to have time is all.”

 

The small box he'd tucked away in the bedside drawer called to him. He could ask her right now, let her know she was all he'd ever want, that his words were true, she could trust him. But his worry kept him still even though his muscles burned with the want to turn over and pluck it from its hiding place, his heart skittering behind his ribs, pounding through his ears.

 

He'd imagined asking her in a hundred different ways, none of them had the two of them gripped by dread for what the next day might hold. Tywin was coming for them. He could die, she could. He shuddered at the abhorrent thought of a world without her in it. It wouldn't happen, he wouldn't let it. They would live and he would ask her when the dark shadows were gone; when they had nothing but a future full of hope in front of them.

 

But just in case the worst happened, he'd leave it where she could find it. Write her a letter first thing in the morning to go with it. He'd make sure she knew.

 

“I've had all the time I want,” she said, interrupting his thoughts, her lips finding his. “I miss you, and...what if there's not… what if there's not a tomorrow night? I can't leave this world without feeling you love me one more time,” she whispered.

 

He slid his hands into her silky hair, like he'd been wanting to do since the day before. He held her still. “There'll be a tomorrow night, for both of us,” he breathed. “And a lot more after that. You ain't leavin’ me Dany, and I ain't leavin’ you.”

 

She kissed him then, a small cry escaping her throat. He let her lead, not daring to allow his needs to overpower her. Despite all they had hanging over their heads, the shadows covering them, he wanted her. It was a fierce thing within him, sudden and sharp.

 

As if she'd sensed it, she pulled away, her breath hitching. “Will you turn the light on? I need to see you.”

 

He didn't waste a moment, reaching over and turning on the lamp for her. A soft glow filled the room, revealing her beautiful face. Want and need colored her cheeks, her chest. But her eyes were wet with tears. She damn near broke his heart. He ached, with want to take away all her pain, and because he knew he couldn't. But he'd try.

 

_I need to feel hands that love me._

 

The words echoed in his head. Her soft plea that had nearly broken him days before. He could do that for her. That he knew.

 

Cautious not to crowd her, he reached for her again, running a thumb across her cheek as he stared into her eyes. “I love you, Dany. Do you hear me?” he asked, his voice low and gruff, fractured even to his own ears. She nodded, her plush bottom lip trapped between her teeth, chin still wobbling. “Stop me, if you need to. Promise?”

 

“I promise,” she whispered, sliding her fingers down his jaw.

 

He leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek, drinking the single tear that had escaped. From there he moved to her temple, her forehead, her nose, lips, and chin. Slow and soft, he mapped her face with kisses. As he reached each ear, he whispered to her–how he loved her, what she meant to him–how happy they were always going to be.

 

Her tears continued, falling slowly, but he didn't stop, kissing every inch of bare skin he could find, determined to defeat the demons haunting her.

 

Moving from her neck to her collarbone and shoulder, he carefully added a hand to his worship of her. Down her arm and side first, keeping his touch feather light, ready to pull away at the first sign of distress from her. He'd found the spot at the notch of her neck and shoulder though, the one that never failed to undo her. She moaned for him, her body tightening, then stretching. He slipped his hand beneath her gown. She had already gathered it near her hips, the cotton clenched in her fists.

 

He ran around her thigh, to her hip, and over her smooth stomach. When she didn't flinch, he trailed his nose further down, letting his breath fan across her fabric covered breast.

 

Her gasp was quiet and small, but welcoming. He took advantage, closing his lips around the hardened bud that had risen to meet the soft tease, nipping at it lightly. Another moan filled his ears so he went further, grasping her gown between his teeth and pulling at it to get to bare flesh. Dany's hands joined the struggle, quickly undoing buttons, freeing her breasts for him.

 

He feasted slowly, licking and sucking at one rosy peak, while paying close attention to the other with his fingers, Dany's mewls encouraging him. Taking another chance he ventured his hand to another pleasant place, her hips rising and pressing into his touch. He found her slick and swollen beneath her drawers. His need pooled dangerously in the base of his spine, he couldn't help but grind his cock into her hip. _God, he ached_ , needed to feel that scorching wet wrapped around him again.

 

But not yet.

 

Keeping with his gentle pace, he traced a fingertip over the seam of her, slipping through and finding the firm knot of her clit. She jerked and he pulled away, looking down at her with a frown. “You okay?”

 

She gripped his wrist, guiding him back to his work. “Please don't stop, Jon,” she begged.

 

He shook his head and kissed her, going back to his teasing. “I won't, lass. I promise,” he whispered, drinking from her mouth again.

 

A whimper was the only answer he got, then another as he slipped a finger within her and right back out again. He wanted to build her slow, so high she'd have no choice but to shatter when the time came.

 

He teased her mercilessly, barely touching her, his movements more like whispers against her skin. He circled and stroked till she whined. Then did it again, and again. Finally, she couldn't take any more and grabbed his hand to keep him in place. He gave in and took her to the edge, then pushed her over, his fingers buried deep as he suckled at her breast.

 

She rode his hand until she was spent, sinking into the bed, still breathing hard, but there was a sweet, contented smile tugging at her mouth. He kissed it, over the moon to have put it on her face.

 

“Your turn now,” she murmured, reaching down and taking him in hand through his long johns.

 

He groaned, unable to stop himself from thrusting against her touch. He wanted to bury himself between her thighs and drive into her until it tore them both apart. Instead, he rolled, pulling her on top of him as he went. She'd control this, not him.

 

She gave a small squeak of surprise, still basking in her recent euphoria. She helped him work his clothes out of the way then settled herself over his aching cock, rubbing her slick wet heat against him. “Is this what you want?” she purred.

 

He hummed, deep and rumbling, grasping her hips to encourage her. It was all she needed, thankfully in no mood to torment him as he had her. With a tilt of her hips, she took him to the hilt, sheathing him in one stroke. His eyes crossed with the pleasure and he pulled her down, holding her tight to keep her still. He needed to get ahold of himself, it hadn't been that long, but it'd been long enough.

 

She let him have a few deep breaths before she wiggled free of his grasp and sat up, trailing her fingers down his chest and stomach as she did. Again she gave him more time, but eventually, she grew impatient and began to rock.

 

His eyes flew open, needing to see. She was gorgeous above him, lovely and lithe, as she rolled her body, taking him in deep, grinding thrusts. It was all he could do not to close his eyes and spill into her. But this was all for her. He'd wait and let her gather back the broken pieces, even if it killed him.

 

But she was struggling, he could feel it. Building higher and higher only to let it slip away. She wasn't stretching it out or taunting them, she was fighting to stay with him. Fighting back the nightmares.

 

He slid his hand to where they met, hoping to help her fall, to push her past the memories. Circling her with his thumb he countered his thrusts to hers, never breaking eye contact, wanting to keep her with him. “I love you, Dany.”

 

She shuddered and shook, doing her best to let him take her. It almost worked, her walls began to flutter and clench. He let his eyes roll back, ready to tumble after her, just waiting. Then she faltered.

 

“Jon,” she called, voice fragile and faint, drawing his eyes back to hers. They'd gone dark, liquid pools of need begging him for so many things. A tear slipped free and he was up, taking her in his arms.

 

“Let go of it, lass. I've got ya,” he whispered, brushing her hair from her wet face, helping her rise and fall with the other. “I love you. I’m right here, and I ain't gonna let ya go.”

 

Gasping, she took his face in her hands, her lips grazing his. She rode him, harder, squeezing and grasping, compressing his soul into one blinding point of light.

 

“That’s it, Dany, love,” he panted, lost to the feel of her and the hold she had of his heart. “Come for me.” He tried to wait, but it was all too much. He didn't need to worry though, she was right there with him, splitting apart in his arms as he did the same in hers.

 

*~*

 

They woke in a much darker state of mind than when they'd fallen asleep, each seeking the solace of the other's arms. Outside their window the world had gone white, a thick blanket of snow covering everything, washing their bedroom in a bright silvery glow. It was cold, even under the thick numerous quilts they laid under.

 

Jon thought he’d rather be whipped than to leave the soft quiet, the comfort, and warmth of her arms, but the day and their enemies had to be faced if they were ever to have another morning.

 

They rose and dressed, helping each other with buttons and the like, neither saying much. He held her sweater as she slipped her arms in, she did the same as he donned his coat, and they stood there, tugging collars and edges closed to keep the other warm. He put his hat on, settling it tight as she gave him a strained smile, her arms crossed over her stomach.

 

He reached up and cupped her ears, smiling as best he could. “We need to get you a hat, your ears are gonna get cold with all your hair gone.”

 

A small giggle bubbled forth from her but all too quickly turned it into a weak sob. She hugged herself to him. “I love you, Jon, with all my heart,” she whispered.

 

He held her tight and swallowed at the lump in his throat and closed his eyes against the burning. “And I love you with all of mine, lass,” he managed.

 

“We'll be okay. He won't win again. Not this time.”

 

“No, he won't. We will.”

 

She stretched up on her toes and placed a lingering kiss on his lips, the weight of what was coming heavy between them. As hard as it was, he pulled himself away and walked outside to see that people were getting into position.

 

*~*

 

No one wore smiles. Inside or out. Every face that greeted him was pale and pink from the cold, brows twisted heavy over worried eyes. There weren't any cheery _good morning's_ given, only solemn nods.

 

He hadn't needed to check things were in order. The Mormonts, Bronn, and Rokahrro had been up long before him and had everyone ready they assured him.

 

He went to go back inside to Dany when he caught sight of Arya walking with Gendry toward the back of the main house, her arm around his waist as they whispered to one another. He wandered closer, wanting a few words with his friend, alone, before it all started. They’d been in firefights before. It was a comfort knowing they had someone as reliable as Gendry sitting in the air ready to pick people off.

 

Arya finally walked into the house and Jon stepped up to him before he began his climb up the ladder. “Want me to go up ahead of ya? Give ya a hand?”

 

Gendry shook his head. “Nah. Let me climb the fuckin’ ladder and accomplish somethin’.”

 

Jon winced to hide his grin. “There’s some quilts layin’ up there. Soften it for ya a little.”

 

“Appreciate the thought,” he said with a nod. “Ya nervous?”

 

“Terrified.” He wouldn't admit that to anyone else, but he could to Gendry. They'd seen each other stripped bare of any hope, expecting their next breaths to be their last.

 

“Me, too. My wife’s gonna be down there with ya. We both know she might get trigger happy--”

 

“Arya ain’t gonna start it.”

 

“But it is gonna start.”

 

Jon nodded and took a deep breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’d be alright with ya savin’ my life again.”

 

“Won’t that make it a habit?” Gendry quipped, trying to lighten the mood. Jon appreciated the effort.

 

He grinned. “Reckon it would. But Dany might appreciate it if ya could.”

 

“Well, I reckon I can do it for her,” he said with a wink.

 

Jon’s smile left his face and Gendry grew serious as well. “You sure you’re alright?”

 

He nodded. “Ta protect her, I’d do anythin’,” he whispered. “You, too. I’m watchin’ over my family.”

 

Jon reached forward and hugged him carefully. “Can’t imagine a better man for the job.”

 

“Be careful,” Gendry said and pulled away. “I ain’t on the ground this time to run ya to a doc.”

 

Jon gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “I'll do my best, you do the same.”

 

Gendry nodded and began climbing up the ladder slowly, Jon held it steady. He followed him up, just to make sure he was settled. There were several different guns with ammo lined up beside his spot to the left of the chimney. Bronn would be on the other side, his guns were laid out as well. He watched as Gendry lowered himself onto the blankets, picked up the rifle and checked the chamber.

 

“Can ya see alright?”

 

Gendry grunted. “Go stand down there and let me shoot at ya ta find out,” he grumbled. At Jon's raised eyebrows he cocked his head. “I got this, now go on and leave me alone.”

 

Jon knew his griping was just him being fed up with people acting as if he wasn’t capable of anything anymore, even though he knew there was a genuine concern. He couldn't blame him for being cranky.

 

“Gonna have enough people shootin’ at me today. Not gonna chance havin’ one of em be you,” he said as he climbed down the ladder.

 

“Jon!” Gendry called after him.

 

He stopped and hollered back up, “Yeah?”

 

There was nothing but silence for a beat, then his friend's voice floated down. “See ya soon.”

 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “See ya, Gen.”

 

When he stepped off the ladder, Bronn was waiting for him. “Everyone’s in place. You ready?”

 

“No. But it don’t matter, does it?”

 

Bronn shook his head. “Nope. Time to protect what’s yours. For your Pa, for your family, for your woman, and for you.” He slapped his back. “Don’t fuck it up by dyin’.”

 

“I’ll do my best.”

 

He held the ladder for Bronn as he climbed up, then walked back into the house. The ladies sat around the kitchen table, talking quietly. They all gave him uneasy smiles. He dropped a kiss on the top of Dany's head as he passed. Arya's too.

 

He slipped into his bedroom and took out Dany's ring, placing it on the dresser. He took the letter he'd written in the middle of the night out of his coat pocket and propped it up against the little box. He prayed he'd make it back to his room before her after the battle was done, so he could ask her like he wanted, but just in case he didn't make it at all...

 

Back out in the front of the house, Grey and Margaery’s brothers stood at the living room windows, Robb was on the porch, and further, across the yard he could see the Dothraki, shifting shadows amongst the trees. He walked out and joined his brother. Jeor and his son sat in the rocking chairs, both appearing completely at ease, but he could see the focus in their blue eyes as they looked up at him. This obviously wasn't their first time doing this. Jon didn’t know if that made him afraid or relieved.

 

Not ten minutes later the call of whippoorwills echoed up the mountain, followed by the sound of car engines. Robb gave a nod to the Hound who stood on Arya’s porch. She came out of the house and stood between her brothers. “Here they come.”

 

“Stay inside?” Robb asked gently.

 

“Fuck off,” she replied.

 

Jon almost smiled. Robb leaned against the porch post, one leg crossed over the other, his hand on his gun at his side. “Worth a shot.”

 

The cars pulled over the mountain and circled around their yard. There were six, two of them big enough to hold over half a dozen men.

 

“Stay focused. Remember what I said. This will work,” Jeor muttered from his rocking chair. He’d told them the night before it would be a game of patience. Jon wasn't sure his nerves were made for patience.

 

The engines turned off and men began climbing from the cars, Joffrey front and center beside the Mountain. Alliser followed, taking a spot next to his deputy, his beady eyes narrowed and trained on Jon. By the time they all stood in front of them, he had counted thirty-one, all of them in suits and long blacks coats, dark gloves, hats pulled down tight, leaving their eyes in shadow. Some attempt was made to hide their guns, but he still caught the gleam of cold silver or dusty coal barrels as they were tucked in pockets or beneath coats. Even still, no matter how intimidating they appeared, his heart gave an excited jump. They had them outnumbered by nearly half.

 

Then the one behind it all climbed out. Jon hadn't seen him since he was a youngin, but the man standing before them couldn't be anyone but Tywin Lannister. Disdain rolled off him in waves as he looked around their property, his squinted eyes finally landing on him and his siblings.

 

He tilted his head, his smile contemptuous. “The great Ned Stark's wolf pups. You mongrels enjoy baiting the lions, don't you? Isn't there supposed to be more of you?”

 

Arya pushed past Robb, needle flashing in her hand. “There’s more of us, and better a pack a' mongrels than a lone lion with jackals at his back,” she snarled.

 

Ghost, Nymeria, and Grey Wind picked the perfect time to make their presence known, jumping up on the porch and coming to their sides, hackles raised and teeth bared as they growled.

 

Tywin chuckled softly, half his lackeys with him. Jon grabbed his sister by the shirt before she flung herself off the porch and went for Lannister's throat.

 

The screen door screeched opened and slammed shut behind them, healed footfalls coming through. The sight of Dany stepping up to his side caused a great bubble of panic to bloom within his stomach, but the calm, cool tenor of her voice settled him.

 

“Shall we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic Violence Warning: They grab Amory Lorch coming from the brothel. Oberyn slits his throat and they carve fire and blood into his chest and hang him and the guard they shot from the gates of Casterly Rock and burn his car.
> 
> And yeah, that ending was probably mean, but eh!


	29. I’ll Open the Door to Heaven or Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and her family face off with Tywin and his men.
> 
>  
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gorgeous mood boards you see were made by justwanderingneverlost. She's so fucking good at it, isn't she?
> 
> This chapter is truly a labor of love. We hope you like it. 
> 
> As some of you know, I (Ashley), will be having back surgery on Tuesday. My third one in a year. I'm hoping this solves the problem. Writing this fic with JW has been such a wonderful distraction. I also want to say that this will not be the end of us writing together as we already have plans for another fic. We hope you all will love it as much as you have loved this.
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH**

**TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH**

 

 

_Ooh, death_  
_Whooooah, death_  
_Won't you spare me over ‘til another year?_  
_Well what is this that I can’t see_  
_With ice cold hands takin’ hold of me?_  


_Well I am death, none can excel_  
_I'll open the door to heaven or hell_  
_Whoa, death someone would pray_  
_Could you wait to call me another day?_  


_The children prayed, the preacher preached_  
_Time and mercy is out of your reach_  
_I'll fix your feet so you can't walk_  
_I'll lock your jaw so you can't talk_  
_I'll close your eyes so you can’t see_  
_This very hour, come and go with me_  


_I am death, come to take the soul_  
_Leave the body and leave it cold_  
_To drop the flesh up off the frame_  
_Dirt and worm both have a claim_  


_Ooh, death_  
_Whooooah, death_  
_Won't you spare me over ‘til another year?_  


_My mother came to my bed_  
_Placed a cold towel upon my head_  
_My head is warm, my feet are cold_  
_Death is a’ movin’ upon my soul_  


_Oh, death how you treatin’ me_  
_You closed my eyes so I can't see_  
_Well you're hurtin’ my body, you make cold_  
_You run my life right out of my soul_  


_Oh, death please consider my age_  
_Please don't take me at this stage_  
_My wealth is all at your command_  
_If you will move your icy hands_  


_The old, the young, the rich or poor_  
_All alike to me you know_  
_No wealth, no land, no silver, or gold_  
_Nothing satisfies me but your soul_  


_Ooh, death_  
_Whooooah, death_  
_Won't you spare me over ‘til another year?_  
_Won't you spare me over ‘til another year?_  
_Won't you spare me over ‘til another year?_

 

 _O’ Death_ **  
**Ralph Stanley  


 

**DANY**

 

His deep rumbling voice had drawn her outside, her skin crawling, rage boiling within her veins, leaving her unable to stay back a second longer. She stood between Jon and Robb, staring at the formidable group in front of them. Tywin and his men were outnumbered, but it was obvious they didn’t realize their folly yet. He’d failed in his mission to destroy her family. He would fail to destroy the Starks as well.

 

“Shall we begin?”

 

She could feel her lover’s eyes on her as he gave a slight nod, Robb as well. She took the steps, both descending beside her, Jeor and Jorah to each side of them. The pistol tucked in her belt at her back burned her skin, the want to pull it out and show Tywin what the last Targaryen was capable of overwhelming.

 

He eyed her critically for a moment before turning his icy glare to the men at her side, stopping when he landed on Jeor. “Mormont? A bit far south for you, isn’t it?”

 

“I follow my family wherever they need me.”

 

His gaze slowly turned back to her. “Something with a 'd', wasn't it?”

 

She gave him a slight smile. “Daenerys Targaryen. You failed to kill us all. Pity for you.”

 

He huffed. “I should’ve known it was you when Ramsay couldn't make you heel. Stubborn and scheming, just like your father.” His eyes cut to Jon, looking him up and down. “Stooping to lie with a dog just to root me out as well. The scourge of the litter too. How pragmatic of you. I'm sure your mother would be proud.”

 

_The son of a bitch._

 

Jon’s fingers grazed the inside of her wrist, pulling her back from her blinding rage. He was right, she couldn't let Tywin bait her. “I’m sure you think you’ve won,” she said, proud of her level tone.

 

“I’m sure you think the same,” he returned, “but killing my man and stringing him up on a gate is hardly winning. You only killed one of many.”

 

“Two, and we were only getting started. The rest will follow, including you,” she said confidently. “Their father, my father, my mother, my husband, and my son, they’re all dead because of you.”

 

His eyebrows rose, his expression implying how humorous he found the situation. “And this is how you think to get revenge? With a few second rate bootleggers? Poor farmers who aren't even good at that?”

 

“We’re not alone.”

 

He glanced at Jeor again and nodded. “Yes, the old bear is here to help you, I see. Even so, you have no hope of winning.” He waved his hand at the men around him. “You’re severely outnumbered. It's time to stop this foolishness.”

 

She brushed her fingers against Jon's and he gave a whistle, the low somber call of a mourning dove. Many answered, dark shadows moving from their hiding places in the woods, from out of the barns, and behind the house. The Tyrells and Grey took their places on the porch as well. All in all, Lannister's gang was in the sights of over seventy guns.

 

Alliser looked around, wide eyes revealing his startled state. He shook his head, pointing a finger at Jon. “You'll all hang for killin’ a lawman. I'm a sheriff!” he hissed, desperation dripping heavy from his words.

 

“So am I,” Davos declared, stepping out from behind the Hound. Arya moved to stand with them, her gun pointed directly at the Mountain along with the Hound's. The large deputy would die before it was over. Davos moved forward a few more steps. “You’re all trespassin’ without cause.”

 

Maniacal laughter erupted through the tense silence. “Without cause? We have plenty of that,” Joffrey sneered, pulling his gun and pointing it at Robb.

 

But he wavered as Margaery stepped to the edge of the porch, her rifle aimed directly at his head. “Give me a reason,” she threatened, teeth gritted.

 

“Joffery,” Tywin warned. His grandson reluctantly dropped his gun back to his side, rolling his eyes.  Tywin cut Dany a surprisingly impressed grin. “So the Dothraki moved their loyalty to you?”

 

“Not just the Dothraki,” Oberyn called from behind them. He had stepped up onto one of the truck hoods–standing tall, flipping his blade in the air with one hand, gun held steady in the other. “There are many who want to see you die,” he went on, “Slitting Lorch’s throat was satisfying, but I imagine putting a bullet in your head would feel even better.”

 

Delight washed over her to watch Tywin swallow hard. He shifted on his feet. His face pale and slack when he turned back to her. “We can come to an agreement, I'm sure. No one has to die today.”

 

“You’re wrong,” she answered. “You do. And you will. You've killed too many to hide your sins. Hurt people for your own selfish whims. Your men run around unchecked, wreaking havoc wherever they go. The way we see it, if you fall, the rest of them fall with you.” She pulled her gun, aiming it straight at his head and cocked it slowly. “Winter has come for the Lannisters, and fire and blood with it.”

 

Joffrey raised his gun again, jerking his head around to his grandfather, eyes wide and frantic. He was a bomb seconds from going off, Robb his intended target. She prayed the others saw it as well, Tywin had to stay in her sights.

 

Jon’s gun came into view beside her own, his thumb pulling back the hammer. “No more games,” she said softly.

 

Joffrey’s fuse ran out. He fired, the shot a crack of thunder splitting the air. Robb was thrown back, fabric and blood spraying from his shoulder. The wolves lunged, masses of gnashing teeth and snarls. Men began yelling as Jon grabbed for his brother and Margaery let out a guttural wail, firing her rifle. From the corner of her eye, Dany saw Joffrey's head bust open like a ripe melon dashed against a stone. His body dropped to the ground, crimson painting a garish picture across the pristine snow.

 

Her eyes never left Tywin's, nor his hers. Not even a glance was spared for his grandson. His hands had yet to leave his pockets.

 

Every gun was drawn, the clicking and clacking of a hundred hammers being cocked was a fall of ice shards pricking down Dany's spine. Every person she loved was a target, standing at the end of a barrel.

 

But there was no running, or turning back, no surrender left to any of them. Who would live and die was all in God's hands now.

 

She pulled the trigger. The bullet found its mark right between Tywin's eyes and she barely allowed herself the satisfaction of watching him fall as the pops and cracks of gunfire erupted, drowning out all else. She turned to find another target, but Jon had grabbed her around the waist and was pushing her back toward the house, blocking her body with his. Roose Bolton was stalking them, murder in his eyes.

 

He aimed and fired, but Jorah jumped in front of him, taking the bullets meant for her and Jon. Her friend and protector fell, and her heart cracked behind her ribs, but the bedlam continued around them, leaving her no time to mourn. She couldn’t think about it, not right then, or it could mean her death, or Jon's, or any of their loved ones.

 

They retaliated, their own guns adding to the fray, both returning fire on Roose. But he did as well. Jon jerked against her with a grunt. They stumbled, nearly falling into the porch steps. Panic filled her, taking her concentration away from the fight for a split second, but Jon straightened and continued pushing. She looked up just as Roose went to one knee, a bullet hole pouring blood from his side. Jon fired again and sent Bolton down on all fours. A blur of white struck him a moment later, a gurgling scream following as Ghost ripped at his throat.

 

She braced Jon’s weight against her, pulling him up the steps. He was hit somewhere, she had to get him inside. But an irate Alliser was coming after them. She fired again, only for the gun to give a soft click. Empty, she flung it away. Her love still had his raised and ready. He put a bullet through the sheriff's eye, sending the monster to the ground.

 

The utter chaos seemed to have been brought to an end with Jon's shot. The gunfire ceased, though her ears still rang with it, mixing with the pounding rush of her blood and heaving breath. Those left alive on the Lannister side had thrown down their guns and went to their knees, hands raised, begging for mercy from the Dothraki and townsfolk.

 

No more than five minutes could’ve passed, start to finish. Yet dozens of bodies littered the yard, black masses atop red, then white. The sight reminding her of a painting she'd once seen of scarlet poppies scattered over a snowy field.

 

Ripping her eyes away from the morbid scene, she ran frantic hands over Jon, looking for a wound. He was pale and wide-eyed, panting as he looked her over as well. “I'm fine,” she assured him, still searching. “Where are you hit?”

 

He shook his head. “It's just my leg, I'm okay. Went through, didn't get the bone,” he breathed, pulling her against him tight. “I'll be alright. You sure you are?”

 

“Gendry!” Arya yelled out, drawing their attention back to the others. She was in the yard, kneeling over the Hound, Davos at her side. They looked unscathed, but Sandor was obviously dead, his brother as well, lying a few feet away from them.

 

“We're alright! Comin’ down!” came a call from above and Jon let out a heavy breath.

 

Shifting feet brought their gaze around to Robb and Margaery. The couple was a little worse for wear, arms around one another, Robb bleeding from his gunshot wound and Margaery pale and tear-stricken. But they were alive.

 

As were most of their loved ones.

 

Bronn and Gendry came around from the back yard, going straight for Arya and Davos. Loras, Garlan, and Grey stood over the few Lannister men kneeling in surrender. Loras’ arm was bleeding, but it looked to be only a graze. Missandei had come from inside the house going for Robb, having spotted his shoulder. She ushered him and Margaery through the front door.

 

Checking Jon over again, Dany finally found it–a growing stain of blood running down his britches leg. Her heart lodged in her throat and she tugged him toward the door, but he wouldn't budge. “I wanna see that everyone’s alright first,” he insisted.

 

Sam came jogging across the yard from Arya and Gendry's then, stopping at each person he came too. Tormund, Edd, Oberyn… all the folks from town were upright and walking, most of the Dothraki as well–all of them wandering through the dead bodies, checking each. When Sam reached Rokahrro, he was pointed toward the far end of the porch. There on the snowy ground sat Jeor, shoulders shaking as he held his son's head in his lap.

 

Dany turned into Jon, a wave of grief taking her. He held her tight and rubbed her back. “I'm so sorry.”

 

She only allowed herself a moment, Jorah was gone, she could no longer help him, but Jon was hurt, him she could. The bloodstain had barely grown since last she checked, but she tugged on his coat anyway, growing sick with worry. “Please, let's go inside. You need to sit, let Sam check your leg. Please.”

 

“In a minute,” he said, denying her again, his eyes focused on Davos and Bronn.

 

The older men were surveying the carnage just as everyone else was, talking too quiet for her to catch their conversation. Davos glanced up at them soon after and gave a wave before walking toward the barn. Bronn went over to Jeor and Sam finally, _finally_ , made his way to them, coming up onto the porch.

 

“You need to come inside Jon, let me look at ya,” he said after giving him a once over.

 

“I will, but take care a’ Robb first, I'll be in in a minute,” he answered him, waving at Davos driving past. “You know where he's goin’?” he asked.

 

“To get the undertaker up here,” he answered. Dany met his eyes and Sam jerked his head toward the door. She nodded and he went on in, just as Jon gave a sharp whistle.

 

Soon after Ghost came trotting up, his white fur bloody, muzzle to paws. He was a frightening sight but welcomed all the same.

 

“He looks alright,” Jon mumbled as the wolf climbed the steps. She squatted down and looked him over, none of the blood seemed to be his. He spun from her and she stood, her nervous energy insistent on having her close to Jon. Ghost went down the steps again, and back up, circling them. He stopped long enough for Jon to pet him and was gone again.

 

A lone howl broke through the quiet and Jon shifted, looking out across the yard and into the woods. He let out a heavy sigh a moment later. “Dammit all to hell.”

 

“What is it? What's wrong?” she asked scanning the yard following his line of sight. Movement caught her eye, just inside the treeline. It was Nymeria, pacing around a dark grey form that laid at her feet. Ghost joined her, nosing at... “Oh Jon,” she gasped, her hand clasped over her mouth. It was Grey Wind, it had to be.

 

“Let's not tell him yet, alright? Let Sam get him patched up, have him rest a bit,” he said.

 

She hugged herself to him, nodding her agreement. “Speaking of, we're going inside now,” she demanded. “I'm not taking no for an answer again.”

 

He sighed. “Yeah, alright.” He gripped her shoulder and turned toward the front door, his weight heavy against her.

 

The remaining Lannister men suddenly started shouting and they looked around. The men's hands were waving in the air, heads shaking as they quarreled.

 

She watched Bronn exchange a look with Loras and Garlan and realized what was going to happen before it did. They raised their guns, along with several others, and gunfire filled the air once more.

 

“They surrendered!” Jon barked, pulling away from her and stumbling to the porch post.

 

Neither Loras nor Garlan looked repentant. Olenna had obviously told them no one from the Lannister side was to be left alive. The only thing they could do was play ignorant when Davos returned.

 

“We had orders,” Bronn answered coldly, walking up the steps. He stopped, looking Jon over. “You're bleedin’. You shot?” he snapped. Jon nodded, attempting to stand straight. “Well, what the fuck are ya doin' out here? Get your fuckin’ ass the house,” he scolded, reaching for him. Jon didn't fight him, slinging an arm around his shoulder just as his knees gave way. Dany slipped beneath his other arm, swallowing down her panic. “Sam! We need ya!” Bronn hollered, as the pair of them got him inside to a kitchen chair, both struggling under his weight.

 

She stood between his legs as Bronn rushed away. Heavy, hurried footfalls sounded all around her, voices loud, but she only had thought for Jon. She pulled his cap off and brushed his damp curls from his sweaty face. He was so pale and his breathing was all wrong, shallow and too fast. He looked at her, but she knew he didn't see, his eyes empty and unfocused. Her heart stopped.

 

“Jon,” she gasped, cupping his face. “Jon, look at me!”

 

He blinked slowly, and there he was, the softest of smiles blooming across his sweet face. “Dany. My Da…” His eyes rolled back, lids drooping closed. His head lolling to the side, dead weight in her hands.

 

Terror swallowed her whole. She screamed. “JON! Sam! Missandei!” She dropped between his knees, pulling the knife from his boot and cut at his britches leg. Blood gushed out to meet her from the gaping hole in his thigh. “Someone help me!” she screamed again, pressing her hands against it to staunch the flow. There was already a pool of blood beneath his chair.

 

“Some of you men help!” Sam yelled. “Get em on the table now! Don't let go, Miss Storm, hold pressure!”

 

Bodies suddenly surrounded them, their hands grabbing Jon and hefting him up onto the kitchen table, while Sam yelled out his orders. She knew nothing but her love’s ghostly pale face, and his warm blood slippery beneath her hands.

 

“Let me, Dany,” a soft voice whispered in her ear, a gentle grip on her arms. She couldn't let go, he'd die! She shrugged them off. All the voices kept yelling, the racket deafening and tearing at her strength. She wanted them to go away. He'd be alright, she'd take care of him. They just needed to go away.

 

“Daenerys. Let Missandei help. Come with me.”

 

It was Grey, his calm voice and firm grasp on her arms breaking her from the terror. She took in the frantic scene around her. Jon’s clothes had been cut off. Someone had tied a tourniquet at the top of his thigh as well. Bronn was slinging water from the sink to a pot on the stove while Sam stood at Jon's other side, slipping a needle deep into his arm. One of her Dothraki stood next to him, holding up a bottle of saline in one hand, the tubing in the other. Robb and Marg stood against the wall, twin looks of anguish on their faces.

 

Missy's hands hovered over her own. Her golden eyes kind, expression tender. “Let me,” she prodded softly, “I promise to take care of him. You know I can.”

 

“Please, Missy,” she whispered, unashamed of the pleading in her voice, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

 

Her best friend nodded and held a towel over her hands. Dany slipped hers away. The blood flowed freely again, but nothing like before. Missy quickly pressed the towel over the wound. “We've got him. Go with Grey.”

 

“If you can help, stay, if you can't, please wait outside,” Sam said to the room, as he walked around Jon, scalpel in hand.

 

Grey took her by the shoulders and pulled her toward the door. “Let's check on the others.”

 

Her body followed him, but her eyes didn't leave Jon until the door was shut between them. Her heart never left the room–cold, pale, and dying on the table.

 

Margaery was at her side, pulling her away from the door. “Let them work,” she said and took her hand tugging her into the living room. “Help me tend to Robb.”

 

Dany knew she was trying to distract her, but nothing could keep her mind and heart from screaming. That artery. That fucking artery. The same she’d sliced open in Ramsay's thigh. She'd killed him. She took Roose's son from this world. How appropriate his bullet would take her world from her.

 

Sam had already pulled the slug out of Robb’s shoulder. Margaery was stitching him up. Numb, Dany passed her supplies, dabbed up blood, helped wrap gauze around him once they were done.

 

Robb glanced back at the kitchen door and reached for her hand with his free one. “He’ll be alright. I know it. Sam was a medic in the war. He patched up lots of men, got em home.”

 

All she could do was nod.

 

Arya and Gendry came through the front door, their relieved expressions disappearing the moment they spotted them all. Arya’s eyes darted around the room, landing on Dany and her blood-soaked hands and dress. “Where’s Jon?”

 

She didn’t answer her, _couldn't,_ neither did Robb. Margaery went to them, taking Arya's hand. “Sam’s with him in the kitchen, working on him. He knows what he’s doing,” she reassured them. “How are you two? Gendry? Your ribs?”

 

“I’m fine. Was it Bolton?” He looked at Dany, his blue eyes desperate. “I saw him aimin’ for y'all. I shot him. He fell, someone hit him again and then Ghost…” He stepped forward, reaching out a helpless hand. “I thought we got him in time,” he whispered, his voice failing him. “I'm sorry.”

 

She choked back tears, shaking her head. “It's not your fault.” It was hers. She went to the piano in the corner, hiding from them all as best she could, arms crossed tight around herself as if it would keep her together, keep the shattered pieces of her from falling through the cracks in the floor.

 

*~*

 

Time became heavy and obscured. Minutes lasting hours, hours seeming more like days. Grey stood sentinel by the front window. Robb and Margaery had taken the sofa, holding one another, wordless and still. Gendry sat in the armchair, bent over, his head resting in his hands, while Arya paced the floor like a wild beast caged.

 

Davos showed up with the undertaker in tow. She sent Grey out to meet him and watched through the window as he and Margaery's brothers spoke to him, the sheriff's agitation growing by the second.

 

He was irate when he walked into the house. “What happen’ to the ones that were still alive?” They all looked at him, but no one answered. He scanned the room, studying each face and finally it registered, worry spilling across his weathered features. “Where’s Jon?”

 

Dany swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes dropping to her bloody hands. She turned back to the window.

 

“Kitchen,” Gendry answered, “Sam’s workin’ on em.” He stood his movements those of a weary man. “And we don’t know what happened to those men. We were in here, concerned with Jon.”

 

Davos ran a hand over his wiry hair. “How bad?”

 

Gendry shook his head. “We don't know that either.”

 

Their old friend went back to the front door, his hand over his mouth. He stopped, seemed to gather himself and came into the room once more. “Let me know as soon as ya hear. I’ll be outside helpin’ load bodies.” He looked at her. “Miss… Targaryen, you have some folks out there that wanna speak to ya,” he said softly.

 

She knew she needed to move, but her limbs had locked up. She felt as if she weighed a thousand pounds. Arya came to her and at just the slightest touch broke her from her paralysis. She walked her to the door. “I'll holler if we hear somethin’.”

 

Rokahrro met her at the top step. “Old bear took him to the barn. Doesn’t want him goin’ with the others.” She cast a look toward the barn, wanting to run to Jeor, have him hold her and tell her everything would be alright. But his pain was more than hers, she wouldn't be selfish. “Some of my men will drive him back to Boston, leave tonight,” he went on, “The rest will stay until Khaleesi tell us go.”

 

“Jeor’s going with him?”

 

He nodded. “Says he will come see Khaleesi before he leaves.”

 

“Your men? Did you lose–”

 

“Two. But they died protecting their Khaleesi. They were honorable deaths.”

 

“I'm sorry. I… _we_ didn't want anyone to die for us. Please make sure their families are taken care of, whatever they need, I'll provide it.”

 

“Thank you, Khalessi.” He stared at her for a long moment before dropping his head. “Your Khal strong, he won't leave you.” With that he walked into the yard, calling to his men to round up at the barn.

 

The group from town was waiting for her, standing silently in the yard. None of them seemed to have more than a graze or two, which would give Jon peace of mind as soon as he woke up. The cold ground had turned a muddy pink beneath their feet–tire tracks, footprints, and drag marks–all mixing the snow and blood into a morbid mess. There were still bodies scattered, now covered in white sheets, blood seeping through like spring blooms coming up through a late snow.

 

Tormund stepped forward. “Robb and Jon alright?”

 

She wrapped her arms around her waist and forced the words out. “Robb’s fine. Bullet’s out, he's stitched up. Jon is...”

 

“Tell us, lass,” he prodded.

 

“Roose shot him. Sam and my friend Missandei are working on him in the kitchen. They wouldn’t let me stay,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. She watched the others that were gathered all trade looks of worry.

 

Tormund turned and looked at them, Oberyn last. He got several nods in return. “If it’s alright with ya, we’d like ta stay til ya know somethin’ from Doc Sam.”

 

She nodded. “Of course.”

 

“We’ll wait out here. Keep an eye on things,” he said with a nod.

 

She put a thankful hand on his arm. “I should get back inside in case Jon needs me.” Ghost had found his way to her again, he followed her into the house.

 

Margaery was still fretting over Robb who seemed to be skating on the edge. He’d been crying, his eyes rimmed red. He hid his face from her behind his hand. Arya was still pacing, but Gendry stopped her, taking her hand and squeezing it for a moment before letting her go again.

 

Dany sat on the sofa, her legs suddenly weak as old dishwater. Margaery reached for her hand and held it tightly in hers. Arya came and sat on her other side, taking her hand as well. Ghost laid at their feet. They didn't speak or move. Any tears that fell were silent.

 

The clock over the fireplace ticked away. She breathed with it, counting out each inhale and exhale, for fear she'd stop altogether if she didn't. Grey came in with an armful of firewood, adding several pieces to the fire. She didn't feel the warmth, only numb, and cold, straight down to her bones.

 

It was terrifyingly quiet behind the kitchen door. She tried not to, but her ears strained to hear any sound. A mumbled word, running water, footsteps, _anything_ that might tell her what was happening.

 

After what felt like a hundred lifetimes had passed the door opened. They all jumped to their feet. Sam stood there, the front of his clothes covered in blood. He was wiping his hands on a dish towel. “We got the bleedin’ stopped, bullet nicked the artery. Lucky it didn't go straight through it,” he said quickly, “But he's lost a lot of blood. He needs a transfusion as soon as possible. We gotta get him down the mount–”

 

“I can do it,” Gendry said, rushed and overloud.  “Give him blood I mean. I'm a match, gave em some when he got hit with the shrapnel.”

 

Sam's face lit with relief, he motioned Gendry toward the kitchen. “Get in here, the sooner the better.”

 

“Sam? Will he live?” Robb asked.

 

“I hope so.” He shook his head. “The blood… he needs it, _now_.”

 

She stepped forward. “Can I see him, can all of us…”

 

“Let me get the transfusion goin’. Get yourselves cleaned up. He can't afford an infection,” he warned and closed the door on them again, the solid thunk jarring her, relighting the panic in her veins.

 

“You go clean up first, Dany,” Arya told her.

 

She looked at them all, questioning. She got nodding heads and waving hands. “Go,” Margaery said, “Call us if you need anything.”

 

*~*

 

She shut herself inside the bathroom, locking out the world behind the door, trapping the terror within. How she was still upright she didn't know, everything inside of her was screaming, ripped and tore at her in a frenzy–wanting her to run, but leaving her frozen in place. But something moved her, carried her to the sink.

 

She turned it on, staring at the face in the mirror. Dany Storm did not gaze back at her, but neither did Daenerys Targaryen. The woman in the mirror was someone else, someone who wanted much different things. Their enemies were dead, no more than fallen bodies being loaded into trucks. Justice had been served, revenge delivered.

 

She had wanted nothing else for so long, but now… Nothing mattered save Jon coming back to her. Nothing.

 

His blood ran from her hands, the red swirls spinning down the drain. Gone forever. Leaving her. She cried out, the sudden need to catch it, to keep it possessing her. She covered the drain with trembling hands, stopping any more from vanishing. If he died, if she lost him…

 

Great wrenching sobs took her. Limbs shaking, the grief scorching her eyes and throat, crushing her heart, and scooping at her guts with sharp rusty edges. She did this to him. Put him on that table, dying, his life slipping out onto the kitchen floor. Her and her need for vengeance, blinding all else.

 

But a hundred Tywins dead and gone would never be enough to reconcile the loss of Jon, no matter how cruel and corrupt. She knew that now, too late. Half of her missing, her soul left hollowed by his absence.

 

A knock sounded against the door and it slowly cracked opened. “Dany?” Margaery came in, quickly shutting the door behind her at seeing her state. “Oh sweetheart,” she whispered. She had a clean dress in her hands, she laid it over the towel rack, pulling the towel off and coming to her. “Let me help.”

 

Dany continued to sob, trying to slow the tears, but unable to stop as Margaery cleaned her up and dried her hands. She was pulled into her arms the moment she finished, another wave of grief and fear overtaking her. Margaery did her best to soothe her, stroking her hair, whispering words of assurance. While grateful, she knew nothing but Jon surviving would ease her torment.

 

Eventually, the tears ran out, her body too exhausted to expend anymore. She took the cool washcloth Margaery passed her and pressed it to her face, taking slow deep breaths.

 

“I think I'm pregnant,” she whispered, still hiding, unsure she had even wanted to say the words aloud. Something inside her had been desperate to keep them tucked away and safe. He should've been the one to hear her suspicions first. And she’d meant to tell him, had wanted to, but things had been too chaotic the day before. And now… She needed to say them, send them out to be heard. Maybe having done so would be enough to bring him back to her.

 

“Oh Dany,” Margaery breathed, pulling her hands away from her face to look at her. “How long?”

 

“I should've… my monthly should’ve come two days ago. I'm never late. Never. We've been careful, but nothing stops it a hundred percent…” She knew in her heart it had happened the night in the barn, after their horrible fight. She hadn't put her diaphragm in. Preventing pregnancy was the last thing on her mind as angry and terrified as she'd been.

 

Margaery squeezed her hand. “So early yet.”

 

She nodded. “I might as well be a clock though. I've only ever been late one other time. And I have pains before, I haven't had any.”

 

“Well, if you are, I couldn't be happier for you, Dany,” Margaery said, smiling gently and pulling her into another hug. “Jon will be thrilled.”

 

“What if he doesn't–”

 

“Shhhh! None of that,” she scolded her, pulling back and cupping her face. “He will not leave you. He won't. He's been near death before with nothing to live for and came back. Knowing he has you here waiting for him… He'll live, Dany. He will.”

 

Another knock came. “Sam says we can go see em now,” Arya said through the door.

 

“We'll be right out,” Margaery told her, grabbing the dress she'd brought in. “Let's get you changed.”

 

*~*

 

The kitchen felt more like an oven. They’d turned on the stove, the door opened to let the heat flow into the room. The wood stove was roaring too, cracking and popping in the corner.

 

Gendry sat at his right side, the transfusion bottle between them–tubing, dark and red running to each of their arms. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned over, kissing the top of his head, whispering her gratitude. He smiled up at her softly and went back to eating the orange slices he had in his hand.

 

Jon was bundled under a pile of quilts and someone had put a pillow under his head. Missy, she assumed. Bronn carried a chair over for her, placing it beside Jon's head. Missy guided her to it and she sat down and looked at her love. He was so pale, his raven hair black as pitch compared to his ghostly skin. So still and quiet he filled her with terror. All she could think of was the last time she'd seen her mother and father, laid out under sheets in the hospital morgue.

 

The fear of being there once more scrambled up her throat, nearly choking her. She reached a trembling hand out, brushing his curls off his forehead, a rush of air leaving her at the slight warmth beneath her hand. He was cool, but not ice cold. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his temple, breathing in his beloved scent. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered, swallowing down the swell of tears rising within her. “Don't leave me. Please don't.”

 

Robb came in, taking a seat at his brother's side, Margaery stood behind him. Arya joined Gendry a few minutes later, sitting down in his lap. Sam was checking things, the needles in their arms, the saline bottle hanging from the kitchen cabinet, Jon's pulse.

 

“When will we know?” she asked him.

 

He shook his head. “Couple hours, or it might take days. I can't take much more from Gendry. An’ what he's givin’ might not be enough, still may have ta take him down the mountain. But I want him stronger first.”

 

“When will he wake up?” Robb asked.

 

“I ain't sure. He’s lost s’much blood his body’s in shock. Could be awhile. And if he gets an infection… I wanna give this time to work, get him moved to the bedroom soon as the transfusion’s done. We'll have ta be careful, not tear it open again.”

 

“Is that what happened?” she asked. “He wasn't… he was okay for a while, it wasn't bleeding that much.” She looked around at them all, guilt eating her very soul. “I never would've let him stay out there if it had been!”

 

All of them shook their heads at her, mumbling words of assurance. Missy squatted down at her side, squeezing her hand. “It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. The artery tore, sometime _after_ he got shot. It would've only taken a step, for him to move a certain way. You couldn't have stopped it. Roose did this.”

 

She nodded, numb. “Yes, I took his son from him, and he had every intention of taking Jon from me.”

 

“His intention was to kill ya both,” Robb returned, frustration lacing his tone. She met his eyes, bright and bereaved across Jon's body. He closed them, running a hand down his face and let out a sigh before looking back at her. “You ain't ta blame. We all know who put him here, and it wasn't you.” He looked at his brother, his handsome face twisting in pain. “Ya know he wouldn't have ya feelin’ like you do,” he whispered.

 

A breath rushed from her and she smiled, a tiny fragile thing, barely there. “He wouldn't,” she whispered, rubbing strokes down Jon's cheek with the back of her fingers.

 

Robb wiped at his eyes and gave a sharp nod. “Alright then, stop doin’ it.”

 

She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut and nodded.

 

Boot steps shuffled into the room, they all turned. Davos was there, a layer of sweat glistening on his wrinkled skin. His brow was pinched with worry. She knew the sheriff's soft spot for Jon, how he'd been another father figure when his was gone. Her heart gave a painful tug. He cleared his throat. “How is he?”

 

Sam heaved a sigh. “He’s alive. That’s always a good sign. But we won't know for a while.”

 

Davos swallowed thickly and turned to her, tears glistening in his blue eyes. “Miss, Mister Mormont’s outside, wantin’ a private word with ya.”

 

She didn't want to leave Jon, but she couldn't make her old friend wait either. She stood and kissed his forehead, whispering her love and promise to be back soon. She looked at his family, _her_ family, pieces of her broken heart aching just for them. “I'll be right outside. One of you let me know if anything changes.”

 

“Course we will,” Gendry told her.

 

She went to the front door and found Jeor leaning against his car. A truck with two Dothraki inside waited behind him. She knew Jorah was in the back of that truck and her heart broke further. She stood in front of the man who was a better father to her than hers had ever been, and her voice wavered as she tried to put her thoughts in order. “I’m...so sorry,” she whispered.

 

He pulled her into a hug and they cried together for a brief moment. He gently pulled back and brushed her tears away with his calloused thumbs. “I know my son, he would’ve done that a hundred times over. He loved you and wanted you safe,” he said shakily but managed to contain the tears she knew were on the edge. He cleared his throat. “How’s your beau?”

 

Her lip trembled, she pressed her teeth into it. “He’s… not well,” she finally managed. “He’s lost a lot of blood. They're doing a transfusion… but… he hasn’t woken up yet.” She looked up at her old bear and gave voice to her fears. “What if he doesn’t? What if what we had is all I’ll ever have?”

 

Jeor took her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know that boy loves you. I’ve seen it, Dany. And any man who loves a woman the way he loves you will fight like hell to get back to you. Have faith. I know this world has shown you how harsh and hateful it can be. But there’s good in it, too.” He looked to the assortment of the people from town that still lingered around the property and she followed his eyes. “These people came to fight for him and his family. I have to believe the good Lord won’t take him from you, nor them either. And I know, for a fact, he has plans to spend his life with you, and he meant for that life to be a long one.”

 

She shook her head. “How do you still have faith?”

 

“What else do I have, my dear?” he whispered. “Now,” he said as he collected himself and stared her in the eye, “when you and that boy get married, I expect to be invited.”

 

She gave him a small smile. “I _expect_ you to walk me down the aisle.”

 

He nodded. “It would be my honor.” He hugged her again, and for a moment she felt safe, held tight in his arms. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see.” He kissed her temple and let her go. “You be careful.”

 

She nodded and watched him climb into his car and lead the way down the mountain, the Dothraki’s truck following behind.

 

Seeing him drive away, knowing why… it had the oppressive weight of guilt settling around her shoulders again, smothering her. Jorah gave his life to save hers and Jeor had lost his only son because of it. One moment he'd been there and the next he was gone. The air left her lungs thinking of Jon struggling to live inside the house, knowing he too could be gone in a moment. Why hadn’t she had taken him and his family and ran far away? _Why?_

 

She spun around, walking past the house, suddenly feeling as if she would come out of her skin if she stood there a moment longer. She took Bran’s ramps at a run then cut across the edge of the field and into woods, every part of her shaking, her heart threatening to burst from the pain, a lump in her throat she thought might choke her.

 

She ran and ran until her lungs burned, not caring where her frozen feet took her. She wound up at a creek bank, having to stop or fall into the icy gurgle. Bright and clear as glass, the water sang, tumbling over the rocks. She knew if she dared to touch it, the cold would bite her skin. If she were to lay down in it, it would freeze the horrific ache throbbing within her. She wouldn't need to feel it any longer. It could drain it from her heavy bones and there would be no more pain. It frightened her how much she wanted it.

 

The dark thoughts forced her away and instead, she wandered the creek's winding path. The light had turned to silver, streaming through the trees, the day beginning to fade. She watched it cut through the water, making shadows play over smooth stones. She let its joyous song soothe her, begin to tame the demons in her head.

 

Tywin was gone, his men with him, just as they all needed to be. All too evil to live, taking lives they had no right to. He wouldn’t have stopped until the Starks and her beloved Jon were all dead. She knew that in her heart. They had done the right thing, just as Jon had in going after Ramsay. But that didn't mean there wasn't a price to pay.

 

She stopped. A small clearing lay in front of her, nestled beneath the biggest spruce tree she'd ever seen. It was surrounded by a short, black iron fence. Numerous headstones peeked out from the fresh snow within. Her feet carried her over, knowing some of who she would find.

 

The oldest, most weathered ones were Stark men. Rickard, Brandon, Benjen. Lyarra Stark laid next to Rickard. Jon’s grandparents she assumed. Another cluster was off to the right, three placed in a row.

 

Catelyn Stark was the first, and it was all Dany could do not to spit on the woman’s grave for treating Jon the way she had. She knew, without a doubt, if something were to happened to Robb and Margaery, she would love their child with all her heart, raise him or her as one of her own. She thought of little Rickon and how much she already loved him. Even if he wasn't her blood, she was determined he would know a mother's love for the rest of his days. She and Margaery would make sure of it. The child was always innocent.

 

Next to her was Ned Stark. While Dany still didn't approve the burden he had put on Jon at such an early age, she had come to respect the man. She knew Jon’s sense of honor was because of him. He was strong and kind and believed in doing right because of the man he called Pa. That was enough for her.

 

The last belonged to Lyanna. She counted the dates. Only sixteen. No different than she had been. Just beside her name, two little bees were carved into the stone. Their wobbly lines could only have been done by a child. Dany didn't know how, but her already broken heart broke again.

 

“Oh, Jon.” She fell to her knees in the soft snow, crying for the lonely little boy he must have been. Wondering how often he'd come here to visit her. Knowing he spent his life wishing he’d had her and her love. The sobs she’d been holding back rushed forward. Kneeling in front of his mother’s grave, she released all the anguish and guilt, let it rush from her, just as the creek beside her ran down the mountain to the valley below.

 

When she was finally able to get ahold of herself, deep breaths were drawn in and out, she spoke to the first to ever love him. “I’ve never been one to really pray. I will probably burn for that, amongst other things. But I believe you're in a better place and I’m certain you’ve spent the last twenty years or so up there watching over him. So you must know how much everyone here needs him. How much they love him. How much _I_ need and love him.” She swallowed thickly, trying to hold back more tears. “If he starts making his way to you, please send him back to me,” she begged, her hand slipping over her stomach, her heart daring to hope. “To us. Jon deserves to know and love his child and they deserve to have him. _Please_ ,” she whispered. “I know I don’t deserve him. He’s always going on about how he doesn’t deserve me, but we both know he’s got it backwards. Your son is the most wonderful man with the kindest heart and I don’t deserve someone so special. But I love him, and if you send him back to me, I’ll spend the rest of my life loving him, making him happy.”

 

Her plea made, her heart felt a bit lighter, but it still ached, tugging her toward Jon, as if a rubber band connected them and it was protesting how tight she'd pulled it. She gave into its need and hers and rose to her feet, brushed off the snow, and stood there for a few more moments, gathering herself before making her way down the hill. But she was brought up short again, the view striking her. From where she stood she could see both houses. They were far enough away it still felt private though. She'd found the spot. Where her home would be for the rest of her days.

 

 _Their_ home.

 

*~*

 

Rokahrro was standing beneath Robb and Margaery's tree when she made it back, no doubt having seen her run off and deciding to stand guard. She smiled at him as she walked up, and turned, pointing from where she'd come. “See that big old spruce?” He nodded. “Up on that hill is where I want the house,” she said softly.

 

He nodded again. “We will start clearing the land in the morning Khaleesi.”

 

“I’ll work up a drawing of what I want.”

 

“We'll be ready.”

 

“Before the ground truly freezes, the foundation should be done,” she said as she walked with him at her side.

 

“It will be.”

 

She looked over at him, placing a hand on his arm and giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, my friend. For everything.”

 

“We are always yours, Khaleesi. Forever.” She gave him a watery smile and he a small bow of his head before returning to the barn.

 

Arya was seated on the top step, as she came around the front of the house. She had her head resting on her knees, but thankfully, she wasn’t crying. Dany didn’t think she could take seeing a tearful Arya at the moment. She lifted her head and stood as Dany approached.

 

“Anything?” Dany asked her.

 

Arya took a deep breath and blew it out, white and misty in front of her face. “They moved him ta your room. He did okay. Sam’s gonna stay up here and make sure he’s alright.”

 

“Did he wake up?”

 

She shook her head. “No. But then he mighta been waitin’ for you.” She smiled at her and Arya stepped down from the porch. “He loves ya. More than I think anyone knows. I hope you're plannin’ on stayin’.”

 

“Jon is my home, Arya,” she answered. “I’ll be wherever he is.”

 

Arya dropped her eyes to the ground. “Ya know, even if somethin’ was ta happen ta him, _it won't_ ,” she stated emphatically, “but... this is still your home.”

 

Dany swallowed the lump in her throat at such approval and acceptance from her. She reached out and Arya came to her, hugging her willingly. “I’m not going anywhere. And Jon’s gonna be fine,” she whispered into her ear. Arya pulled back and gave her a nod. They walked into the house together, the tension and worry thick in the air.

 

*~*

 

She sat beside him, careful not to jostle the bed, and combed her fingers through his dark hair. His color was a touch better, she hoped it wasn't just the lamplight. She knew in her heart he was going to wake up. He was going to open his eyes, tell her he loved her. They would get married, he would give her babies, and they would live on the mountain with his family for the rest of their days. There was no other option.

 

She had forgotten that the others were in the room until Margaery put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you need anything, honey?”

 

Dany looked up at her and shook her head. “No, thank you. Can I have some time alone?”

 

“I'll be back to check on him every twenty minutes or so,” Sam said. “Come get me, if anything changes with him. His breathing, color, pulse. Anything.”

 

“I will. Thank you, Sam, for everything.”

 

With a nod, he left the room, most of the family with him. Only Arya lingered by his bed. “When he wakes up, you let us know,” she ordered.

 

“I promise.”

 

The door closed behind her, and Dany hung her head, fighting off more tears. He would be fine. She knew it. He would wake up. She wished he would do it then, stop torturing her, but she wouldn’t rush it if it meant he'd be stronger when he woke.

 

She kicked off her shoes, sliding them under the bed and went to the dresser. She found a nightgown and slipped it on, catching her reflection in the mirror. She looked a fright. She reached for her hairbrush, only to find something else in its place.

 

A letter, propped up against a small box. Her name was on it, written in Jon's handwriting.

 

She braced herself against the dresser feeling as if someone had struck her, knees weak and no air in her lungs. He'd prepared for the worst, her none the wiser. Her heart beat painfully, each sharp thump cutting her breath short. She reached for the letter only to pull away again, a terrifying thought striking her. If she read it, it would truly be his goodbye. He wouldn't wake up again, would never blush with embarrassment over the words he'd written to her in a moment of despondency.

 

In the end, she wasn't strong enough to wait, needing any part of him she could get. She took the envelope but left the box behind. That would be for him to show her. Sitting at the foot of the bed, she pulled the letter out and opened it, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she did so, and read.

 

_My dearest Dany,_

 

_If you're reading this, I reckon things didn't go as planned. If that's the case and I've left ya, know whether it was God or the devil that took me, they drug me kicking and screaming. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to leave you there alone. It's the last thing I wanted to do._

 

_The last four months with you have been the best I ever had, no matter the hell we been through. I thank the good Lord for bringing you to my door that day. Opening it and finding you there, you brought me back to life, Dany. Showed me what it meant to be loved, how it felt, gave me a happiness I've never known. Our season was short, but it was the sweetest. Made all the dark and bitter ones before it worth suffering through and for that I'll forever be thankful and will never regret a single moment. I hope I showed you how much I love you, that you know it in your heart. Cause I do, Dany. I love you with everything I am and always will._

 

_I reckon you found the box if you found this. I hope you like it. I should've asked you proper yesterday, or before we fell asleep tonight. I should wake you up and ask you right now, but just in case I make it, I want to ask when there ain't any darkness or shadows hanging over us. I want you to be as happy as you can be when I do, for it always to be a happy memory for us to look back on, and for you to know I asked because it's what I wanted most, and not because we were afraid. I wondered if you might've thought the ring was silly when I first saw it, but if I am gone, I reckon it's like Brienne said, you'll have a part of me with you._

 

_Know I meant for us to spend a lifetime together. To make you as happy as you make me till we were old and grey and surrounded by grand youngins. To spend a lifetime of days and nights together loving each other, watch you grow with our babies, love them with you. See your smile in theirs. Take care of you when you were sick and fall asleep with you in my arms every night. I know I ain't got much, but I would've given it all to you. And if I had everything, I'd do the same, because that's what you've given me._

 

_I could keep writing for hours, but I think I'll go back to bed now and hold you for as long as I can._

 

_Wherever I am, I love you, and I'll be waiting for you._

 

_Jon_

 

She had to stop more than once, her tears too copious to see through, struggling to breathe through the pain that threatened to rip her heart through her ribs. She rose from the bed, the letter pressed to her chest, and paced the floor, fearing her shuddering sobs would cause it to shake and hurt him, all while hoping her pitiful cries might wake him.

 

They didn't, and after a time, her tears once more ran out. She tucked his beautiful words away with the few pictures she had left of her family and went to him, no longer able to be separated even a scant few feet.

 

She laid down beside him, resting her head on his chest. The quick beat of his heart brought her peace in a way nothing else could. He was still alive, still with her. He was only resting. He would wake up and they’d live their lives together.

 

To comfort herself further she thought of their house. It would be cozy and warm, with a porch of course, and a swing. Rocking chairs too. She'd make sure Rickon and Bran would have easy access, their own rooms if they wanted to stay with them sometimes.

 

She put her hand over her belly and took a shaky breath. Oh, how she already loved their child, tiny and just a flickering hope within her. Their little one would grow up with Robb and Margaery’s babe. Maybe one of Arya and Gendry's as well. Close as Robb and Jon. Get into mischief together, cause her and her future sisters to chase after them as they ran wild on the mountain. She would make sure they loved to read as much as she and Jon did. Would have kisses and cuddles, and never be left to think they weren’t loved.

 

Jon would be a wonderful father. She could picture him rocking their little one, reading them books about the adventures of Captain Ahab or Mowgli and Baloo. He’d be the father she had always wanted–caring, attentive, and adoring. Protective, keeping any unwanted boys from his daughter. The thought made her smile. Jon, arms folded across his chest, a fierce brooding scowl aimed at the first boy to call on her.

 

Would she look like a mixture of the two of them? Jon’s eyes and her hair, or her eyes with his hair? Or would she favor one over the other?

 

She stopped, realizing she was already thinking of their child as a girl. She shook her head, not wanting to get too attached to the idea. They could have a son, hopefully at least one of both. What would a son bring them? Would he be as wild and rambunctious as Rickon or soft-spoken and subdued like Bran?

 

Her eyes rose to Jon. If it was a boy, she hoped he'd be just like him. She'd be proud to gift the world another man as good as Jon Snow.

 

She leaned up on her elbow and traced his jaw with her fingertips. Her heart ached for how hurt he was, but more so that he hadn’t come to, that she couldn’t tell him the secret she’d been keeping.

 

“I need you to wake up,” she whispered. “I need you to come back to me, hold me, love me as only you can. I need you to open your eyes so I can tell you about the life we made together and all my plans for our future. I’m ready for you to ’ask me proper’ so I can be your wife and you can be my husband. Nothing else in the world would make me as happy as that.” She pressed her lips against his cheek. “I need you to wake up so I can tell you how much I love you. That you made the sunshine for me, again. You’re my new dream, Jon. You and the life we’ll make together. But you have to open your eyes.”

 

She waited several moments, but still, he laid there–eyes closed, breathing deeply. She dropped her head to his chest again and ran her fingers along the scar over his heart. “You’ll wake up. I know it. And I’ll be here waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let us know what you think!


	30. I am Yours and You're the Love I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery and her family cope with the aftermath of the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! JW here. Jumping in for Ash tonight so she can continue to rest and recover. She sends her love and thanks for all the prayers and well wishes you awesome people sent her way! She has several weeks of physical therapy ahead of her, so please keep her in your thoughts as she works to get back on her feet. 
> 
> I want to say thank you for the awesome response we got to the last chapter. It meant the world to both of us! That was THE chapter of this fic and I worried myself sick it wouldn't be good enough, your comments eased my troubled mind and I love you all for it!! And of course a huge thank you to Ash for always being there to calm me down and push me through my doubts. She's my Amazin' Ash, and I love her to the moon and back. She goes on and on about me, but I can promise you, this fic wouldn't be possible with her!!! 
> 
> We're winding down now, only four chapters left, plus the epilogue. I am so not ready to say goodbye to these precious beans. But alas, all good things must come to an end. Anyone want to join my therapy group? ;D

 

 

Build me up from bones  
Wrap me up in skin  
Hold me close enough to breathe me in  
The moon's a fingernail  
Scratching on the back  
Of the night in which we lay beside  
I held every inch of you  
I wrote every line for you  
I made time when time was all but gone  
You're the love I've always known  
The night's so dark and grey  
But you've helped me find my way  
Through the wild and wonders of this world  
So take me with you now  
I need to show you how  
I can love you better than before  
I held every inch of you  
I wrote every line for you  
I made time when time was all but gone  
You're the love I've always known  
Play it sweet and low  
We've got nowhere to go  
I am yours and you're the love I know

Build Me Up From Bones - Sarah Jarosz

 

Margaery

 

Time past. She wasn't sure how much. Dany was shut up alone with Jon, Robb had been sent to bed. She didn't know where everyone else was. She stood alone in the kitchen, amongst the carnage. The oppressive heat from the stoves, pots and bowls full of bloody water or surgical tools on every flat surface, and the towels and rags–all soaked red and scattered about the room. The blood was everywhere. She could taste it, sharp and metallic on her tongue, filling her nose with a sickening tang. Her stomach gave a dangerous twist.

The room began to spin, the events of the day hitting her all at once. She felt as if she was only seconds from hitting the ground when a pair of steady hands grasped her shoulders. Garlan was in front of her, concern on his face. “Margy? You alright?”

Loras was by their side a moment later, quickly ushering them to the back porch and pushing her into a chair. Garlan took off his heavy coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. He pulled up a chair beside her as Loras knelt at her feet. “Take slow deep breaths, Marg,” Loras instructed. “You’re white as a sheet.”

Garlan took her hand in his, and the gesture sent a splintering crack through the dam she had built the last few hours. And when the tears began falling, she couldn’t get them to stop. She squeezed his hand harder as Loras leaned up and wrapped her in a hug. “Talk to us,” he whispered.

“We killed people,” she hissed in his ear. The tightening of Garlan’s grip let her know he heard her too. She pulled back and looked at them both. “I killed Joffrey, he deserved it, but I still took a life.”

Loras brushed her tears away. “It was kill or be killed, sister.”

“What about after the fighting?”

“Contingency plan,” Garlan said after a deep breath. “We couldn’t let them live because they could’ve told people how we killed a sheriff and his deputy.”

“Grandmother told you to?”

Loras nodded. “Her only goal has always been to protect her family. To protect you. As you said, Joffrey deserved it. Tywin deserved it. The Mountain. Alliser Thorne, Roose Bolton, Black Walder...they were all horrible people who deserved it, Margaery. You can't second guess that, now.”

“Anyone of those men could have come back here and hurt you. We eliminated that from ever happening,” Garlan whispered. “So, you need to relax, put this out of your mind, and concentrate on your family. The man inside who loves you and the baby in your belly.”

She knew they were right, but she also knew shutting down her tumultuous thoughts would not be so easy. It wouldn't do to tell them that though. They wouldn't understand. She changed the subject. “What about you two?”

Loras gave her a small smile. “Don’t worry about us, but let us worry about you. Miss Snow is going to need you. The whole family will. You’re the strongest woman I know, and that includes grandmother. So, we need you to take a few deep breaths and get back in there and take charge,” he said softly.

Garlan handed her a handkerchief and she wiped her eyes. “You called Dany Miss Snow. She'd like that.”

Loras’ smile grew wide. “She might as well be. They've all but said I do.”

“They'll do that soon. Once he wakes up,” she said, hoping the more she said it, the truer it would be. She stood and hugged both of them. “I’m so glad you’re alright. Your arm is alright, isn't Loras?”

“Just a scratch. Nothing to worry about,” he assured her.

“I have to admit,” Garlan cut in with a smile, “it did make me pretty damn proud to see you take care of Joffrey. Especially after what he did to you.”

He meant well, but that wasn't what she needed to hear. She looked at her hands. “He tried to kill my husband.”

“And you took care of it. You’re as much of a warrior as anyone else.” She nodded and walked to the door, Garlan stopped her before she went inside, the grim expression on his face filling her with concern. “There’s one thing we have to tell you that you’ll probably need to tell Robb.”

She frowned. “What?”

Loras took her hand. “His wolf, Grey Wind, died. Shot twice,” he whispered. “Everyone agreed not to say anything yet, but...”

“I get to be the bearer of bad news?” she asked, tears falling down her cheeks again. She remembered a few short nights ago, when Robb had learned about his father’s death, she had found the great wolf at his side. How close Grey Wind had stayed to him through the night. Her heart broke. “I’ll tell him when we’re alone,” she whispered. “Make sure no one else gets the opportunity.”

Garlan wiped her eyes with his handkerchief. “We’re sorry, Margy.”

She gave a final nod and walked back into the house, rubbing a hand over her belly as she made her way to their bedroom. He wasn’t asleep, just staring at the ceiling. She closed the door behind her, the light of the moon the only thing guiding her way. She turned on a lamp by the bed and he sighed, squinting against the light. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she sat beside him and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I’m alive,” he said softly. “But Jon...”

“Hey, he’s still alive! Sam and Missandei are watching him. And if you think Dany is gonna let him go then you need to pay better attention. She’ll fight like a hellcat to keep him,” she said fiercely. “Jon will be fine and when he wakes up, he’ll give you whatfor for doubting him.” She brushed her fingers along his jaw. “But...there is something I need to tell you.”

Her hesitation must have scared him because he pushed himself up with his good arm. “What is it? You alright? The baby?”

She blew out a shaky breath. “We’re fine,” she confirmed. “It’s Grey Wind.”

All the air seemed to leave him at once and his fingers clenched hers. She saw the tears in his eyes as he turned his feet from the mattress and to the floor. “Where is he? I want to see him.”

“No! You’re getting back into bed.”

“Don’t tell me no! He’s mine!” he snapped. “My wolf! And you tell me he’s...what? Hurt?”

“He’s gone, Robb,” she whispered. He shook his head emphatically and went to stand but she stood in front of him making it impossible for him to. “Robb. Listen to me,” she ordered, “You need rest and I’m not letting you out of this bed until you get it.”

He hung his head and she moved her fingers through his auburn hair. Her own tears fell to the back of her hands. His shoulders shook as he cried and she moved to sit in his lap and held him against her, pressing her lips against his head. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

His one good arm squeezed her. After a few moments he collected himself and pulled away from her to wipe his face. “Can you make sure he’s… don’t bury him yet.”

She nodded and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll make sure. I promise. As long as you get back into bed.”

He nodded and she climbed from his lap, making sure the quilt was covering him before turning out the lamp. “Check on Jon, too,” he asked.

“I will.”

She went to the living room where she found her brothers, Grey, and Missandei. She looked at Loras. “Make sure Grey Wind isn’t buried yet. Robb wants to be there...”

He stood and walked outside as Garlan offered her a seat. She waved him off. “Are any of you hungry?”

She got a ‘no’ from all of them. “Is Sam in there with Dany and Jon?”

“He went down to his office,” Missy answered. “He needed more supplies for Jon, in case he… has a rough night.”

She nodded, pushing down the dread that news had bubbling up in her stomach. Garlan stood. “You should be resting.”

“I will.” She left the living room, going to the kitchen. Arya was there. Crying, as she scrubbed blood from the floor. Margaery swallowed her own tears down, grabbed a rag, and helped her without a word.

After a few minutes, they were making headway and the floor was showing only small traces of Jon’s blood and the life that still hung in the balance. Her heart broke for her family. If they lost him, she feared they might never recover. Robb was the head of the family, but Jon was the heart. She pushed those thoughts away, and more besides. They'd have to tell Rickon and Bran what happened to some extent. Just the idea of it made her stomach give a nauseating flip. She took a deep breath as Arya stood and got the mop to clean up the rest of it. Margaery grabbed her pail of bloody water and went to dump it off the back porch.

Loras was making his way out of the new barn, he gave her a nod as he walked up. “Bronn said he’d make sure the others knew to leave him. Found some burlap to wrap him in until Robb’s ready.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “He’ll never be truly ready,” she whispered.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know. You need to have a bath and go to bed.”

“I will. I’m going to send Arya home, first.”

“She’s here?”

“She was scrubbing the kitchen floor,” she whispered. “I’m going to see to her and then I’ll have a bath.”

He nodded. “I’m going to send Garlan down to tell Grandmother and Father what’s happened.”

“Thank you.”

He placed a kiss on her cheek. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

She gave him a smile and squeezed his arm. “I know. I love you for it.”

He held open the door for her and she went back into the kitchen. Arya was seated at the table with her head laying on her folded arms. She put a hand on her shoulder. “Where’s Gendry?”

“I put him to bed with his pain medicine about an hour ago.” She raised her head up, her grey eyes round and swimming with tears. She looked so young, just as she had when Cat had passed. Margaery wanted to gather her up and hold her, but she didn't. “Jon’s in bad shape,” she whispered. “I feel torn ‘bout where I should be.”

Margaery took a deep breath and sat down beside her, putting a comforting hand on her arm. “Be with your husband. He’s over there, alone. He might need you.”

“What about Jon?”

“If something changes, we’ll call for you. I promise.”

Arya took a deep breath and stood. “Thanks. For...stuff.”

Margaery gave her a small smile. “Anytime.”

She watched Arya go and Loras appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Alright, time to take care of you,” he said, motioning for her to follow him. He put his hands on her shoulders and directed her to the bathroom. The tub was already filled, steam rising from the bubbly surface. He was such a good brother. “I already got your nightgown and robe from your room. Give me that bloody mess and I’ll go burn it.”

“I can get the blood stains out...”

“We’ll buy you a new damn dress,” Loras argued. “Hand it out when it’s off.”

Rolling her eyes she shut the door before pulling the bloody wet dress off her body. She cracked the door and handed it through to her brother. Once submerged in the tub she took the time to wash her hair, feeling like even it stank of death and gunpowder.

While she soaked the horrible day from her skin she thought of all that needed to be done, making lists in her head. A plot needed to be dug for Grey Wind, so when Robb was ready they could see to a proper burial. They needed to ride out and tell Sansa what happened. She wanted to do it, just so she could hold Rickon in her arms, but she knew none of them would leave as long as Jon was still in such dire straits.

She took a deep breath and held back the tears, her brother’s words echoing in her head, _Miss Snow will need you. The whole family will._ She’d be strong and she’d protect and take care of all of them. This was the beginning of the rest of their lives. When Jon woke up, it would only make it that much better.

She rubbed a hand over the swell of her stomach, thinking of their baby. The bonnet she’d held in her hands a few days ago had only been a sweet reminder of what they had coming. She thought about Dany and Jon and the possibility of the new life they might have created. If Dany was pregnant as she thought, their children would grow up together, just as Jon and Robb had. They would play, grow, and learn on the mountain under all their loving and watchful eyes. She smiled at the thought, and with a lighter heart, rose from the bath, dried off, dressed in her night clothes and went to their bedroom.

Robb was still awake. She crawled into bed beside him, resting her head on his good shoulder. “You need to sleep.”

He sighed. “It’s easier ta sleep when you’re with me.”

She tilted his head toward hers and kissed him. “I love you, and our family.”

He didn't respond, but she rose and fell with his deep shuddering breaths. She held him tighter, pressing kisses to his chest. “We barely survived losing Ma and Pa… if we lose Jon,” he finally whispered.

She propped herself up gazing down at his moonlit face, twisted with torment. “Jon will wake up, Robb. Sam is his friend and will do everything he can to save his life. Dany loves him more than breathing and him her. Their spirits alone are enough to will his body to live.” She brushed her fingers over his jaw. “Jon’s going to be fine and he’ll be complaining in a few days because no one will let him up to walk around the farm with the freedom he’s used to. He’ll call you a stubborn ass for making sure he stays in bed, he’ll try to get me to sway you, he’ll try to argue with Dany to convince her.” She cupped his cheek. “We’ll bring the boys home and Rickon will no doubt be rambunctious and we’ll all worry he’ll hurt one of you.” She smiled at him, brushing his hair off his forehead. “And around the time summer gets going, you and I will have a beautiful little baby that’s part you and part me. And they will be so loved by everyone.”

He gave her a small smile. “Like their mother.”

“You have no shortage of the same, my love. Now, you go to sleep and dream about our beautiful baby and how much you’ll love showing them this mountain.”

He kissed her, lingering for just a moment. “Thank you, darlin’.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, once more, and draped her arm across his middle.

*~*

She was up before dawn, the comings and goings from Jon's room waking her. Thankfully Robb still slept. She got up and dressed quickly, going to check on her brother in law's progress.

An engine came to life outside as she peeked her head in the door. Dany was up, Missy and Grey with her. They all sat around Jon's bed looking haggard. Sam was gone. But Jon was still breathing, if a bit quickly, his color washed, skin sweat sheened. As much as she believed he'd recover, she had to admit the sight of him so weak frightened her.

“How is he? Any change overnight?”

Missy and Grey shook their heads. Dany held Jon's hand, stroking his fingers with hers. “No change,” she answered quietly, never looking up. “Sam isn't happy with his respiration and heart rate. They're too quick he says and his blood pressure too low. But he's pleased he made it through the night.”

“He's gone back to his office again,” Missandei offered. “To hunt his records for more blood donors.”

Margaery nodded her thanks. “Why don't you two go sleep for awhile. I can sit with her, and I'll get breakfast going too.”

The pair looked reluctant, but Dany turned to them. “Go, get some rest. I'll be fine.”

They did as she bid them, slipping past Margaery. “Wake us if there's any change?” Missy asked.

She ran a hand down her arm. “Of course.”

They shut the door behind them and she picked up one of their chairs, placing it next to Dany. She rubbed a hand over her back. “Did you get any sleep at all, honey?”

“No, not really,” she whispered. “Just listened to him breathing all night.” Dany looked up at her, eyes bloodshot, dark circles beneath. “I was afraid if I fell asleep he'd stop.”

Margaery swallowed down a rush of tears and pulled her friend against her, hugging her close. “Sam will find another donor, it's all going to be alright.”

“I don't think he's being completely honest with us, about how bad he really is.” A quiet gasp left her. “I can't live without him, Margaery.”

She squeezed her tighter. “You won't have to, I believe that with all my heart,” she told her.

“How?” Dany whispered.

“I just feel it, I can't explain it, but I know he's coming back to you, to all of us.”

Dany sat back up and wiped at her face. “I feel it sometimes, too, but then the fears start crawling through my mind again.” She looked at her and Margaery’s heart broke. The pain in her eyes… “My entire family died, Margaery. Now Jon is…” She stopped, having to collect herself. “I can't help but feel I'm destined to be alone.”

Margaery brushed back her hair and passed her a handkerchief from the pocket of her sweater. “You're not alone. You have all of us. You're our family now, married to Jon or not.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling pitifully. She gripped Marg’s hand. “I love all of you too.” She swallowed deeply, looking at her hands. “He bought me a ring, did you know?”

Marg smiled softly, almost telling her how they'd saved to help him buy it. She stopped herself at the last moment. That was up to Jon to tell, not her. “I knew he was supposed to.” She glanced at Dany’s hand, but her fingers were all bare. “You’re not wearing it?”

She shook her head, rubbing her thumbs one over the other. “He hasn’t asked me yet, it wouldn't feel right. He left it for me to find. A letter, and the ring. The box is over there. I couldn’t bring myself to open it.” She'd pointed to the dresser and sure enough, Margaery spotted a small black box sitting on top of it. “He’s going to wake up and ask me like he planned. I won’t wear it till then.”

Margaery rubbed her back some more. “Did you read the letter?” Dany nodded, but didn’t say anything. A tear slid down her cheek. “Jon has such a tender heart I can only imagine what it said.”

Dany took a deep shuddering breath, her whole body shaking with it. “I’ve never felt such bittersweet pain in all my life, Margaery,” she gasped, her tears flowing freely. “The things he said… He wrote it in case... he... He wanted me to know. I'm almost angry with him it hurt so much to read, but I couldn't love him anymore than I do. I love him so much I feel I may die from it.”

Margaery knew exactly what she meant. “We are a pair of very lucky ladies to have the love of such wonderful men I think,” she offered, hoping to ease her pain.

Dany looked at her and smiled just a tiny bit as she wiped at her eyes. “Yes, we are.”

“Your monthly? Has it…”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing.”

“That’s wonderful news, right?”

She straightened up in her chair and smoothed her skirts. “It will be if he wakes up,” she answered, then looked at her with wide worried eyes. “What about you, all this stress. You’re feeling alright, aren’t you? No pains or anything?” She grabbed her hand. “You have to take care of yourself, Margaery. Please.”

She took Dany's hand in both of hers. “I’m fine. I promise. I haven’t had any pains, no bleeding.”

Dany let out a relieved sigh. “Good, that’s good. But please, take it easy, alright?”

“I will,” she assured her and smiled. “Our babies will grow up together. Surrounded by all of us. Happy and loved. I can already see them running around, laughing and giggling, all of them with curly mops on their heads.”

Dany smiled at that. “It’s a dream I never thought I’d have, but there’s nothing I want more.” She leaned over and hugged her. “Thank you, for everything.” After a long moment she pulled away. “How’s Robb?”

“He’s still sleeping. I think Sam’s medicine is to blame for that though. He’s worried, just like you are. Would you go get some sleep if I brought him in here and we sit with Jon?” she asked. She truly did look exhausted, it worried Margaery.

She shook her head and sighed. “I can’t sleep. I think I need another walk though. Clear things out of my head? Check on things out in the barn. They’re suppose to start the house today.”

Margaery couldn’t contain her happiness. “You found a spot?”

Dany smiled. “I did. Do you know the hill just below the family plot? I stumbled on it yesterday. I think it’s perfect.”

“I do know it, and I agree. It will be so wonderful to have you here full time. Will you still teach? If the town builds another school?”

Any happiness there had been in Dany's face vanished with a shake of her head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can handle the memories honestly. It’s something I’ll have to think on, talk to Jon about. I would like to help fund the building though, all of it if needed. The children deserve to learn whether I can be there or not.”

“You’re a good person Dany. I hope you know that.”

Her grin was fleeting, but she squeezed her hand. “You are too Margaery. You are too. You’re sure you don’t mind sitting with him. I can stay.”

“Of course I don’t! Go. Get some fresh air. I’ll have someone find you if anything changes, I promise. Bundle up though, put on some boots? Mine are by the door if you want to wear them.”

“Thank you, I will.” Dany leaned over and kissed Jon’s forehead, lingering so long Margaery felt as if she was intruding. Finally she stood. “I’ll be back soon.”

Once she was sure Dany was gone, she stood and moved her chair to Jon's side. She took his hand in hers, worry wrenching at her insides at how cool and clammy his skin was.

“Jon Snow, you listen to me. This family needs you. Robb, the boys, Arya. All of us. And Dany... You cannot leave her, Jon. Do you hear me? It's time to stop this nonsense and wake up. I've told them all you're coming back to us, so don't you make a liar out of me.”

He didn't move and his breathing never changed, but he heard her, she knew it. Her family had been through the darkest depths of the valley, it was time to start climbing out and up the mountain.

She laid his hand back down and pulled the quilt over him better. “Alright then, be stubborn, we all know it's your strong suit. You can rest all you need, but you wake up the minute you're done. We're all waiting for you.”

*~*

She wasn’t surprised when her grandmother arrived later that morning, along with her father. He hugged her tight, cupped her face, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I had to see you for myself. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

Robb came from Jon's room, then, and shook her father’s hand. “Good mornin’.”

“I’m glad to see you, too,” he said with a nod. “I won’t be staying, just wanted to check on you all. I have business in town with Mayor Baratheon,” he said, puffing up his chest a bit.

“Have a good day, Father,” Margaery said as she placed a kiss atop his head. He smiled at her and left.

Olenna stepped to her and hugged her tight. She took in the comfort of her, closing her eyes and soaking her in. She opened them to see Robb sitting at the table smiling softly at her. She released her grandmother and ushered her to the table beside Robb, before going to the sink.

“Garlan told me that Joffrey got you,” Olenna said to him.

He nodded. “I had my gun on him. Should’ve known he would be a lousy shot.”

“Lucky for you. And you, my granddaughter, made the little cunt pay.”

Margaery nearly dropped the tea kettle as she whipped around. She’d never heard her grandmother use that word. “Grandmother!” she hissed.

Olenna rolled her eyes. “Don’t look so scandalized,” she said, looking at an equally surprised Robb. “I call them as I see them.”

Robb let out a chuckle and Margaery turned back to the tea pot. “How is your brother?” Olenna asked him.

“He hasn’t woke up yet,” Robb answered quietly.  
Margaery moved from the stove to her husband, putting a hand on his good shoulder. He reached up and took her hand in his. “We’re hopeful for today.”

Her grandmother looked at her. “Your brothers will be coming back home with me,” she informed them. “You have enough people on this mountain. That gives you two fewer mouths to feed.”

Margaery’s heart dropped. She’d liked having Loras and Garlan around, but she knew it was selfish to keep them from their lives. Especially Loras. She was certain he must miss Renly. “I hate for them to go, but they need to get back to their lives, we know that.”

Olenna nodded. “Yes, and with the threat of Tywin no longer hanging over their heads, things should lighten.”

Margaery sat at the table, her expression grave. “What do you mean ‘threat of Tywin’?”

Her grandmother raised an eyebrow at her. “I think you know very well what I mean, my dear, and I shall say no more about it.”

Robb looked at her, clearly as stunned as she was. Tywin had known about Loras? She wondered who else knew, her heart skittering against her breast. “Is he...still in danger?”

“Hopefully not anymore,” Olenna replied. “I’ve got my ear to the ground, though,” she said, shocking Margaery. “I’m going to leave Bronn for a few more weeks. Let him help get this place running back to normal.”

“As normal as it can be with forty extra men living in the barn,” Margaery said.

“Yes. I noticed they’re clearing some land up on the hill. Surely that’s not for another barn.”

Robb furrowed his brow and walked to the back door and peeked out, but Margaery’s voice called him back to the table. “That’s Dany’s doing. She found where she wants her and Jon’s house. Even talked about putting ramps around the property and walkways for Bran.”

Olenna smiled as the kettle whistled. “She truly doesn’t ask for permission, does she?” Margaery poured Olenna and her some tea and Robb coffee and rejoined them at the table. “So, What do you need?”

Robb shook his head. “Nothin’ that I can think of—“

“We’re fine,” Margaery insisted. “We have food and protection in the form of Dany’s group. We need Jon to wake up and the boys to come home and things will get back to normal.”

Olenna nodded. “I’ll send some extra food just in case.”

“Grandmother...”

“I will not stop looking after you simply because you tell me to. Your husband is shot, his brother is unconscious, your sister-in-law is still beaten to hell and back as is her husband. Your future sister-in-law has her people living here until she sees fit to send them home, and you’re pregnant with my future great grandchild. If I want to send food, clothes, or a carpenter up here, I will.”

Margaery tilted her head and sighed. “I suppose you think that put me in my place.”

“Don’t test me, love. I’ve had too much stress that I won’t be barked down by you.”

She smiled and put her hand over her grandmother’s. “I relent.”

*~*

Sam’s return sparked Olenna’s departure along with Garlan and Loras who proclaimed they would do anything not to suffer the wrath of their grandmother. Arya and Gendry had made their way over as well. Missandei was busy making lunch for them all, having pushed Margaery into a chair for her to rest as the last two days had been stressful and the baby didn’t need that. They all gathered in the living room, waiting for Sam's report on Jon–Robb in the arm chair, and Margaery, Arya, and Gendry on the sofa.

When he exited the bedroom with Dany and Grey, Arya hopped to her feet, but Gendry spoke, “How is he?”

“He's still showin’ signs of shock. He needs another transfusion,” he told them. “Which is why I went down to my office. I looked through all the medical records to see if there were any matches I could readily call on—“

“Did you find one?” Robb interrupted, now also on his feet.

Sam nodded. “One in this room. You’re a match, Arya,” he declared. “Another should be on his way soon,” he said checking his pocket watch. “But hopefully, Arya will be enough. We need to do this now.”

Arya nodded. “I’m ready.”

“I’ll sit with ya,” Gendry offered.

Robb stepped forward. “Who’s the other?”

“Tormund,” Sam answered. “I’m hopin’ we won't need him, but I've asked him to come after the store closes. Should know by then if we will.”

Sam ushered Arya, Dany, and Gendry into the bedroom and Robb was left staring after them. She could see the worried expression on his face as he leaned against the door frame and looked out the screen door to the front yard. “Talk to me,” she whispered.

He looked at her, frowning. “I feel helpless. I can’t even give him blood—“

“You took a bullet yesterday and lost plenty of blood yourself. Not sure Sam would let you even if you were a match.”

“I hate waiting,” Robb said. “I hate this. I hate it for Dany, for Arya, Gendry...”

“You,” she finished.

He hung his head. “I just want my brother to wake up.”

Margaery nodded. “He will. I have faith.”

“How? After all that’s happened...”

“How could I not? My divorce went through because Joffrey couldn’t keep his mouth shut, we got married without a hitch, Arya and Gendry survived a beating they probably shouldn’t have, you killed Polliver and Locke and didn’t get caught for it, Dany survived Ramsay's attack and killed him, and Tywin and all his goons are dead. Jon will wake up and he’ll marry Dany and we’ll all live on this mountain and raise babies together and be a family.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you, too. So, you can continue to worry, but I’ll have faith for the both of us.”

He wrapped his good arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, pressing his lips to her forehead as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Ya know, his birthday is in two days,” he whispered against her skin.

She smiled. “I’ll bake him a cake.”

He squeezed her a bit tighter.


	31. My Heart's on Fire, the Flames Grows Higher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More aftermath and Arya and Gendry get a visit that reveals shocking news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! JW here. Ashley is still recovering from her surgery and sends her love and thanks for all your well wishes. We are doing our best to stay on schedule, but there is a possibility we might need a little extra time between updates from here on out. We promise to keep as close our weekly updates as we can though. With Ashley's recovery and me just over a month out from my daughter's wedding that I'm in charge of, real life is making writing difficult. I know I haven't gotten to comments from last week yet either, but that's next on my list right after I post this. 
> 
> I say this in the comments regularly, but I want to thank everyone who reads this fic, whether you comment or not. The love that has been shown for it is overwhelming and means so much to us. We love each and every one of you from the bottoms of our hearts <3

 

My Heart's on Fire, the Flame Grows Higher

The snow is snowing, the wind is blowing  
But I can weather the storm  
What do I care how much it may storm  
I've got my love to keep me warm

 

I can't remember a worse december  
Just watch those icicles form  
What do I care if icicles form  
I've got my love to keep me warm

 

Off with my overcoat, off with my glove  
I need no overcoat, I'm burning with love  
My heart's on fire, the flame grows higher  
So I will weather the storm  
What do I care how much it may storm  
I've got my love to keep me warm  
I've got my love to keep me warm

 

Off with my overcoat, off with my glove  
I need no overcoat, I'm burning with love  
My heart's on fire, the flame grows higher  
I will weather the storm

 

What do I care how much it may storm  
I've got my love to keep me warm  
I've got my love to keep me warm  
I've got my love to keep me warm

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm - Ingrid Michaelson

 

Gendry

“You know, it took him almost a week to wake up last time. He has a tendency to be dramatic,” he said, throwing Dany a wink.

Arya was about done with her transfusion, but they would've been keeping Dany company anyway as she watched over Jon. All of them were nearly as worried about her as him. She'd barely slept or ate in the last two days.

“And lazy,” Arya added, stone faced.

Dany stared at them both, irritation clear on her pretty face, but it quickly turned to humor and she smiled, even laughed, though silently. “I'm going to tell him what both of you said when he wakes up,” she threatened.

Arya snorted. “Givin’ Jon hell is our favorite pastime. You won't have ta tell em, we'll do it ourselves.”

Gendry knew what his wife was doing, hiding her feelings behind a wall of sass and snark. The grip she had on her brother's hand told the true story though. He pushed her gently with his elbow. “Probably ‘bout time you eased up on em though, ain't it?”

She shrugged and bit her lip, her grey eyes staring at Jon. “Maybe,” she whispered.

They fell silent again. Arya went back to eating the orange slices Margaery had given her, Dany just watched Jon, her suffering plain to anyone.

He felt the need to help, wasn't sure if he could, but he had to try. “Ya know how he got injured during the war?”

Dany shook her head. “Not really. All he told me was he was hit with shrapnel.”

“We were goin’ through a field. Started takin’ fire and this… thing in the ground exploded. Took us all a few minutes to regain our barin’s, but they started callin’ for retreat. I looked around for Jon and he was ten feet to my right. He’d been closer to the explosion than any of us,” he whispered. “I got over to him and he had...these shards stickin’ out of em, but he was still breathin’.” He lost himself in the memory, could feel the wet air, smell the smoke, the mud beneath their boots. See his best friend's shocked face, the color draining from it. “I picked em up and started runnin’. Our camp hadn’t been that far away.” He decided to leave out the part of Jon begging him to let him die the whole way there. She didn't need to hear that, neither did his wife. He wished he'd never heard it. “I got him to the medics and after they managed to get the shrapnel from his chest, they said he needed a blood transfusion. A few of us were matches. ‘Bout a week later, I was sittin’ there at his side, tellin’ him that he better wake up when he opened his eyes and told me to stop harpin’ on him,” he chuckled. “I ain’t ever been so happy to hear someone tell me to shut up.”

Dany gave him a smile. “I’m glad he had you then, and now.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m glad he has you.” He shook his head. “I was with him when he got Arya’s letter ‘bout Ygritte. Jon wasn’t chipper before but he was fuckin’ morose after that. Then his injury. He hated bein’ stuck in bed. Worst fuckin’ patient,” he chuckled. “I saw him smile a few times once I got here. Rickon walkin’ was probably the happiest I ever saw him. Then there was you,” he told her. “He came back that first night from drivin’ you home and he couldn’t stop smilin’. And he was like that for days after. We’d find him smilin’ for no reason at all. If he came back to a world where he didn’t have much reason to be happy, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t come back to one where he’s got everythin’ to live for.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Cause...out there in the mud and rain, gettin’ the life beat out a' me, I coulda gone. Woulda been so easy to let go and let the pain fade away. But I heard someone prayin’ for me not to die,” he said, looking at his wife. She had tears in her eyes. He leaned over and kissed her head. “I stayed cause that was the voice of the woman I loved. I’d come back to that forever.” He turned from Arya and back to Dany. “So just keep talkin’ to him, he'll hear ya.”

Dany only had time to nod and give him a watery smile. Sam had come in and checked things on Arya's end, removing the needle and bandaging her arm. “Eat another orange and get some rest,” he told her, moving to look over Jon.

“More rest,” she grumbled. “That’s all I ever hear from docs.” Gendry stood, cupping his fingers at her. She looked up at him, brow pinched and anxious. “Are we leavin’?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna let Dany and Jon rest,” he said with a smile. Arya reluctantly let go of her brother's hand and stood, taking his. “Let us know if anything changes,” he said and escorted her out of the room at Sam and Dany's nods.

Margaery and Missandei had the large table inside and were setting food out. Robb was already sitting down, he looked up at them as they came out.

Gendry nodded at him. “Arya’s done. No change yet. Gotta another orange for her?” he asked, guiding her to sit beside her brother.

“And rest.”

“I fuckin’ hate when they tell you that,” Robb said.

Arya groaned. “Me too. I’ll rest later.”

Missandei handed an orange to Gendry, he gave it to his grumbling wife just as a knock sounded at the door. Bronn went to open it. “I’m looking for the Waters. Specifically Arya Waters,” a deep voice filtered into the kitchen a moment later.

Gendry went to the kitchen door, Arya on his heels. Bronn had stepped back and let their visitor through. He recognized the man but couldn’t place him.

“What d’you want Arya Waters for?” Arya asked.

The man tipped his hat. “I’m here to settle Sandor Clegane’s estate,” he said.

Gendry glanced at his wife, she looked as confused as he felt. She stepped forward. “I’m Arya Waters.”

“I’m Beric Dondarrion. His lawyer. Could we speak outside?”

She nodded and Gendry followed them out to Beric’s car. He put his briefcase on the hood and opened it. “Missus Waters and Mister Waters, you were Sandor's sole beneficiaries. He had no children, nor a wife, and his brother is now deceased as well. His wishes will be met.”

Arya’s face was twisted with confusion. “I don’t understand. Why would he leave anything to me?”

“I don’t know, Madam, he didn’t tell me. Wasn’t my business. But what I do know is what he left you. First, his house and all the belongings inside as well as the twenty acres it’s built on.” Gendry looked wide eyed at his wife, stunned speechless. She was the same, mouth agape. Beric's deep voice went on despite their shock, “He’s left you the Hard Pine Lumber Mill–”

“Wait! That big lumbermill outside of town?” she interrupted. “That one?”

He nodded and smiled. “That is the one. He owned it. I have all the deeds. There’s some more land as well. Maps of the locations included,” Beric said as he flipped through the portfolio. “Also, stocks and bonds, which I’d be happy to set you up with a banker to help you with those.”

Arya eyed him suspiciously. “And we gotta pay you for all this?”

Beric smiled and shook his head. “No Ma'am. Sandor already paid me in full,” he said as he handed over the portfolio. “If you need anything or have any questions I’d be happy to help. I just need your signature stating that you got the items in the portfolio.”

Arya signed the document and Gendry nodded when Arya didn’t move any further. He held out his good hand and shook Beric’s. With another tip of his hat to Arya he left them standing in the yard staring after him.

Gendry rubbed his hand down her back as she gaped at the portfolio clasped in her hands. “Why would he do that? Leave all a’ this to me?”

He shook his head and brushed back her hair, hoping to calm her. “I don’t know. Let’s take it into the house and look through it.”

She nodded and let him lead her across the yard.

*~*

A pot of coffee was brewing. Numerous papers scattered their kitchen table. Neither of them felt any wiser for seeing them.

“Here’s another piece a land in...Alabama? Why’d he have so much fuckin’ land?”

Gendry sat down beside her, rubbing her back again. She was so agitated. “I don’t know. Was it developed?”

“Looks like it’s just woods.”

“Maybe he had plans for it or somethin’. Hell, he owned the lumber mill and none a’ us knew that!”

She dropped both hands flat to the table. “But why me? Why us?”

He didn't know for certain, but he had a few guesses. “Why’d he come live up here after our attack? Why’d he offer to ride with us in case we ran into trouble? He was always lookin’ out for ya. Called ya the she-wolf.” He smirked. “Maybe he just liked your moxie. But he ain’t here ta ask cause he put his life on the line to protect us. He sat guard every night, never asked for nothin’.”

She propped her chin on her hand. “He didn’t ask. That’s what Jon said. Just came up here with his stuff and planned ta stay in the barn. Wasn’t even gonna try ta stay here,” she said softly. “Took Jon and Robb to help em take out Ramsay...” Her brow dropped to a hard frown. “He always said the same thing when I asked why he was here and it was always ‘bout killin’ his brother.”

Gendry looked at the table, all the papers scattered over it. “I think we both know, now, it was ‘bout more ‘an that.” He drew his eyes back up to his wife's and rubbed his hand over her thigh. “The only thing I can think of that makes any kind ‘a sense is that maybe he looked at you and thought if he ever had a daughter he’d want her ta be like you.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “I think all that medicine Sam’s been givin’ ya is finally gettin’ to ya. Gonna tell him to cut back. It's makin’ ya loony.”

He chuckled and bumped her chin with his fingers. “Come on, think about it. It makes sense. Explains why he was protective of ya, why he would leave ya this, why he would put everythin’ on hold to come up here and make sure you were safe.”

She sighed and looked down at her hand covering the will. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s just tryin’ ta irritate me from the afterlife with all these questions.”

Gendry took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Could be a little a’ that, too,” he admitted and stood, going to fill his coffee mug.

“Wanna take a ride?”

He turned and look at her. “Where we goin’?”

“Well, he left it to us. Might as well see what his house looks like inside.”

“Think we’ll need keys?” he asked as he sipped his coffee. He watched his wife stand and walk into the guest room.

She was back soon after, jangling a set keys in her hand. “We’ll go through his stuff in there later. So, a ride?”

He nodded and held up his casted arm, waving it. “But you gotta drive.”

She smiled. “Fine by me.”

*~*

He leaned against the door frame as she tried each key until she finally found the one to unlock the front door. The house smelled of pine and the sharp bite of alcohol. It was clean though, save for a thin layer of dust coating all the surfaces. He took note of the three gun racks along the walls as well as an assortment of mounted heads.

There was beautiful handcrafted furniture in each room, none of it looking like it'd been touched in years. Arya opened the door at the end of a short hallway and Gendry almost smiled. They’d found what had to have been Sandor’s room. There were several stacks of crates with empty moonshine jars in the corner as well as a guitar. Arya picked it up. “Do you think he played?”

“To be honest, I don’t know what ta think,” he said with a shake of his head as he examined the fish mounted to the wall. It was a bass as big as his arm. He turned and surveyed the room. On the bedside table there was a pipe and a half-full jar of shine. He sat down on the bed and pulled out the drawer. Right on top was what looked to be a journal. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but he picked it up and flipped through it, quickly scanning each page. “Sandor strike you as the kind of man to keep a journal?” he asked, looking over at her where she stood on the other side of the room.

“Not at all,” she scoffed. “Why? Did you find one?”

He read a passage closely and frowned. He was surprised to say the least. “It wasn’t his. Was he ever married?”

She wandered over to him. “Not that I remember.”

“Any woman in his life, ever?”

“Never heard about one. Why?”

“This is a woman’s journal. One that knew Sandor,” he said softly. “One that seemed to love him.”

“That grouch?”

“Come on, don’t speak ill of the dead,” he warned. “That’s how ya get haunted and since I live with ya, we’re gonna keep our mouths shut and speak fondly on the man that came and sat on our porch to protect us.”

Arya chuckled as he went back to reading. The more passages he flipped through, the clearer the picture became. “Was Gregor married?”

She nodded. “Mary Redwine. She died when I was round ten.”

Gendry looked up at her. “How?”

She screwed up her face. “Committed suicide I think. Hung herself.”

He shook his head. “I think I know another reason Sandor wanted his brother dead,” he whispered. He ran his finger across the hurried script and read aloud. _“He hurt me! He hurt me so bad I don’t know if I can walk. But I have to. I have to find a way out of here. I know Sandor will help me. He always helps me. I should go to the doctor. But no! He’ll know if I did! He could get in trouble and hurt me more. He’s such a monster. I should have run away with Sandor. I have to see him.”_ He took a deep breath. “That’s the last entry in this journal.”

Arya tilted her head, chewing on her bottom lip. “That could explain why he was so kind to Margaery.”

“Let’s go home and talk to the others. See if they remember anything.”

“They weren’t much older than me.”

“No, but a few years could mean a big difference.”

She led the way out of the room and closed the door behind them. He tucked the journal under his arm.

“You’re bringin’ it?”

“Yeah! I wanna know what happened,” he said as he closed the front door. Arya locked it and they made their way to the truck. They climbed in and Gendry cracked the window despite the cold. He didn’t know if it was his imagination or not, but he thought it still smelled like blood inside. Come spring, he’d pull out all the leather and have it completely redone. Or maybe now he could just buy them a new one.

He busied himself looking through the diary as Arya drove. “Ha! Did you know he had a middle name?”

Arya smirked. “Considerin’ I called him the Hound, no.”

“It was Eugene!”

“You’re lyin’!”

“I am not! It’s in this here book.”

They grew quiet again, her concentrating on the road and him lost in the pages of the journal.

“Do you think we can start on our family soon?”

He jerked his head up, his eyebrows raised skyward. That was the last thing he'd expected out of her. “You want to?”

“Yeah. We said once all a’ this was over...unless you changed your mind.”

“I ain’t changed it,” he said quickly. “Are you ready for that?”

She nodded. “All a’ this… Jon… It's just shown me life’s too short and waitin’ is stupid. I just want to be with you, like we used ta be.” She shook her head. “Everythin’ has gotten so serious, specially ‘tween you and me. I’m ready to get back to what we had.”

He reached over and squeezed her thigh. “I think this might be better. Mix the fun stuff with the adult stuff.”

“I just...I don’t wanna lose us, but I feel like I want more than...us. I want little ones that are stubborn and sassy and make everybody else crazy but we love em! I want that with you.”

He smiled, his thoughts full of little dark haired youngin's running around. “I want that, too.”

“So, we’re gonna try to have a baby?”

“Yeah. I think that’s our plan. And our second plan,” he added, “is ta find someone who knows about runnin’ a fuckin’ lumber mill.”

“I like the second plan. Do we have a third plan?”

“Rest,” he said with a laugh.

“Smart ass.”

*~*

ARYA

When they arrived home Robb was on the front porch. He motioned for them to stop and her stomach flipped and flopped as she pulled to a stop. _Was her brother awake, or dead?_ Tormund’s truck was in the front yard, so that meant her blood still hadn't been enough to bring him around. She wasn't the praying kind, but she caught herself sending up a plea as they walked into the house.

Brienne was seated at the kitchen table with Margaery, Robb, Missandei, and Grey. They didn't look distraught, but they didn't look relieved either.

“Is it Jon?” she asked.

Margaery shook her head. “He's the same.”

A rush of cold and heat ran through her, leaving every inch of her tingling. It was strange feeling grateful and terrified all at once. She didn't know what to do with it, nothing seemed right. It was as if the world had shifted the moment Jon was shot and had become something so different she feared she'd never understand it again.

“Where’d you two go?” Robb asked, breaking her from her daze. “What’d Beric want?”

She joined them at the table, sitting down with a heavy sigh. Gendry took the seat beside her. “Beric wanted to settle Sandor’s estate. He seemed to...have left everything to me.”

Margaery's eyes got big. “Oh my goodness. That’s…” She stopped herself, biting her lip. “Did he say why?”

Arya shook her head. “Nope. Didn’t tell Beric. Left me a bunch of land, his house, the lumber mill.”

“The one outside of town?” Brienne asked, surprised as all of them. “That’s where we get all our lumber.”

“Did you know he owned it?” Arya asked her.

She shook her head. “No. We always deal with Thoros. He’s the one that runs the place.”

“Do any of ya remember Mary Redwine?” Gendry cut in.

Margaery sat up a bit straighter. “Yes. She was married to the Mountain but everyone knew she was having an affair with the Hound.”

Gendry’s head jerked around, staring at her wide-eyed. “What happened to her?” he asked, looking back at Margaery.

“My grandmother told me this years ago, said she killed herself. They found her hanging from a tree at the front of the drive to Sandor’s property,” she said softly. “But, Grandmother said she heard there was no way she could’ve climbed that tree in her condition.”

Arya lowered her head, and swallowed thickly. _Was that why Sandor was alone? Could he not ever get over losing the woman he loved? Did he blame himself?_ She’d been keeping most of her feelings about him deep inside. She knew Gendry wanted her to talk about it, but she didn’t know what to say. Didn't know how she felt.

She remembered when she was little and they'd be in town. If Sandor happened to be there, he was always kind to her and made sure most everyone else kept their distance. He didn’t think her rambunctious behavior as a child was something to chastise. In fact, he’d told someone to shut the fuck up after they'd fussed at her for being too loud once.

Perhaps it was because she never looked at him with fear. To her, he couldn’t help how his face was. He didn’t choose that. Why would she treat him differently for it? She knew Sansa was scared of him, but she never had been.

Her mind went back to Mary Redwine as she watched Gendry flip through the journal. It felt like it was almost an invasion, knowing what was in it. But he’d left everything to her. That had to mean at some point he knew she would find it. And for it to be so close to his bed had to mean that he kept it close to himself. “Did they suspect Sandor?” she asked aloud.

“No,” Robb answered. “All we ever heard was people sayin’ she couldn’t have done it by herself. And in her condition...most people thought it was the Mountain. Killed his wife cause a’ the affair.”

Arya looked at Margaery then her brother. “You’re...both really lucky.”

Robb grasped his wife’s hand. “We are. We know it too.”

She stood and Gendry followed suit. “We’re gonna go home. I’m kinda tired from givin’ blood. Keep us posted on Jon?”

Margaery nodded.

“You shoulda heard Tormund,” Robb said with a chuckle. “Turns out he’s scared a’ needles. Got light headed and everything when Sam walked near him.”

“I hate we missed that,” Gendry said with a smile. “See y'all tomorrow.”

*~*

Gendry was in the bath while she stood in the kitchen looking through the journal. She felt like she was going crazy. Her brother was in a bad state, barely hanging on, her husband was still hurting, though getting better, and all she could do was think about the Hound and the tangled mystery he'd left behind.

Stomping from the kitchen she went into the room Sandor had been using. She pulled everything out of his large duffle bag, leaving his clothes strewn about the bed. She searched around in the pockets until her hand finally grasped a piece of paper. Pulling it out she found it was an envelope with her and Gendry’s name on it.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her heart racing a bit. This could answer her question. Why he did this, why her. She opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

_Little Wolf and her husband,_

_If you’re reading this, I suppose my brother killed me. Hopefully, I took that fucker to hell with me. You’ll get a visit from Beric Dondarrion, if you haven’t already. He’s in charge of my estate. I left you everything. And I’m sure you’re asking yourself why, but the truth is, I don’t have any family that I would want my stuff to go to._

_I was in love with a woman, once, and she got pregnant with my baby. She lost her. A little girl that would have been ours. I reckon there’s a part of me that thinks she would have been like you. A fighter, someone who doesn’t see the horrible nature of the world as anything but something she can bend to her will. That’s how I would have raised her, anyway._

_And you got yourself a good husband. I know he won’t never lay a hand on you in a bad way. You’d kill him if he did. But he loves you. He loves you. That’s something worth holding onto, little wolf. Not all of us get to be with the people we love. Fucking world is shit in that way. I hope you have a good life with babies._

_Live well,_   
_Sandor Clegane_

_Oh, one more thing. Don’t touch my fucking hunting trophies!_

Arya chuckled at the last bit, able to hear his voice saying just that. She folded it up, shaking her head. Sandor’s animosity for his brother made so much sense. If he killed Mary, which it sounded like he did, then that was just one more reason to want him dead. Shoving his face into a bonfire when they were children was horrible enough. But this seemed even worse.

She carried the letter with her into their bedroom. Gendry was sitting on the bed, the journal open on his lap. “Where ya been?” he asked without looking up.

“I went through Sandor’s bag.”

That stopped his reading, his head jerking up. His face was still bruised, but his eyes shone bright blue, no more blood marred them. The teeth he’d lost had been toward the back, you couldn’t tell by looking at him they were missing. He was still her beautiful boy. Alive and almost well. “Did ya find anythin’?”

She shook herself and handed him the letter. He started reading right away. A smile lit his face quickly and when he finished he let out a chuckle. He handed it back to her and she put it on her bedside table. “It’s like you said.”

He shrugged. “It’s the only thing that made sense. I just hate his daughter died. It’s somethin’ I don’t ever want to go through.”

“It’s a possibility when you have a baby, I reckon.”

He nodded. “Yeah. That make you think you don’t wanna try?”

She snapped her eyes up to his and crawled onto the bed beside him, shaking her head. “No. That don’t change my mind. Does it yours?”

“No. Just means I might bother the hell outta ya while you’re pregnant,” he said with a smile, laying down and pulling her close.

She settled her head against his shoulder. “Do you really still want me?”

He chuffed softly. “You been drinkin’ and not tellin’ me?”

She chewed on her lip, looking down at their quilt, playing with the loose threads. “I’m being serious, Gendry.”

“So am I.” He closed the diary, putting it on his bedside table and turned toward her. “I love you. I want you. Hell, I fought with myself everyday to stay away once I met ya. ‘Til ya told me how you felt about me. I was surprised but so relieved. And I didn’t let myself die just so I could stay with ya. Why would you think that changed?”

She craned her neck back, wrapping her lips over her teeth as she looked at him. She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. After all that happened, maybe I’m… not worth it.”

He pulled a face, his anger obvious. “Arya, you’re worth everything!” He grasped her chin when she tried to look away. “I’m surprised you still want me.”

“Now who’s been drinkin’?”

“They broke my face,” he said softly. “They broke my hand, my ribs. Nearly broke all a’ me, and I failed to protect you. Why would you want a man who couldn’t be there for you...”

“Stop it,” she said and moved to her knees beside him, cupping his face in her hands, gently. “You woulda died. Do you think I'd rather have you dead over a bit battered? You fought when you had to. When it was time to come back to me. I’ll take that over the other any day,” she said, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I also remember you clawing through the mud trying to get to me,” she whispered. “You fought, Gendry.”

He pulled her close his lips finding hers and she straddled his lean hips, deepening the kiss. She pulled away to breath, her fingers moving gently over his bruised skin. She could feel him pressed against her, hot and rigid, and closed her eyes. Since they’d started having sex they had never gone this long without one another. She needed him so badly, but... “I don’t wanna hurt ya,” she breathed out, placing another kiss on his lips.

“It hurts me more to be separated from ya,” he whispered, his good hand sliding up her thigh and over her bottom, scrunching up her dress along the way. “I trust ya not to hurt me.”

Hoping he was right, she kissed him again, her tongue dipping out to meet his. She trailed her hands from his jaw down to his shoulders, settling her weight on his lap. She made a cursory thrust with her hips against his and he groaned, his lids fluttering closed. Smiling, she sat back and got off the bed, pulling her dress over her head.

He watched, his blue eyes growing dark as she took off her underclothes. She moved over him again as he laid back on the bed. “I’ll be gentle,” she said against his mouth.

He chuckled. “You better fuckin’ not.”

She helped him shimmy out of his shorts, tossing them to the floor with their other clothes. He wrapped both arms around her, holding her tight, his mouth against hers. She would be thankful when the cast was gone and she could feel both of his hands on her again, but for now, she would take what she could get. He rolled her to her back and slid between her legs.

She popped up on her elbows. “Gendry, don’t. Layin’ on your stomach–”

“If I can lay on my stomach to shoot at people, I can certainly do it for this,” he came back, biting the inside of her thigh playfully. “Or do you not want me to taste you?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I do.”

“Then shut up,” he said with a wink and licked the seam of her.

She dropped her head back to the bed, clenching the sheets in her hands. He sucked her little nub into his mouth and grunted against her and her toes curled. His tongue raking through her had her gasping. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed this sort of intimacy between them, but having him pleasuring her with his mouth again, was better than she remembered. Gendry was the only man who knew her like this and he would be the only one.

She lifted her head and watched him, mesmerized. His hand slid over her belly and up to her breast. He held it as he feasted, pinching at her nipple, sending bolts of liquid heat through her. “More,” she begged, rocking her hips beneath his tongue.

His other arm came over her hips to hold her in place, while his fingers slid down her body in the slowest, most agonizing glide she could imagine. When she finally felt them against her folds, she watched him pull back just a bit, tracing along her opening, spreading her arousal before slipping them inside. She was trembling, aching to the point of pain. Bright blue eyes met hers as he pulled back and slid in again. She moaned and was rewarded, his movements picking up pace and force, fingers rubbing against her, thrusting in and out. Then his tongue was back, working over the little bud, and she had to look away. She'd shatter otherwise.

When he added the third finger, she was coiled so tight, so ready to fall, but he wasn’t giving her enough, drawing it out, slowing down. Part of her was thankful, wanting to skate the edge, but another part was anxious to feel him inside her. She clenched her inner walls hard against his fingers and he groaned, his breath hot against her sensitive skin.

“I thought about this a lot while I been layin’ here. Wanted ya to climb on the bed and sit on my face.” He flicked his tongue through her folds. “Fuck, I’ve missed your taste.”

“Mmm, too many people were around for that,” she gasped.

“Their poor choice to walk into our house without knockin’,” he muttered. “You wanna come?”

“Yes,” she breathed, lifting her head again. “Make me.”

“Say please.”

She groaned in protest. His fingers had slowed nearly to a stop. “Please,” she hissed through clenched teeth. He knew how much she hated to beg, but he always knew how to get it out of her.

He sucked her nub back into his mouth as his fingers took her at a rapid pace, rubbing against that magical spot that caused her body to almost seize around his. She felt it coming, welcomed it, as she fell over the edge, allowing wave after wave to wash through her, crying out with no shame.

As she came down again, he gently slid his fingers free and moved up the bed and onto his back.

He smiled at her as he pulled her mouth to his, the salt and tang of her splashing across her tongue. She broke away and moved between his legs. “My turn to torture you?” she purred, taking his cock in her hand, stroking the hard length. Meeting his eyes, she flicked her tongue over the leaking tip, his long grown making her smile.

“If you do that, I ain’t sure we're gone be able to do anything else,” he warned, his breath catching.

She stroked him two more times then climbed to her knees and straddled his hips. “Pity. I like having your cock in my mouth,” she declared, rubbing him against her, going slow and shallow at first, getting used to feeling him inside her again.

Just as she allowed him to bottom out Gendry’s hand grasped hers and their fingers intertwined to help steady her. “God, Arya, you shouldn’t feel this good,” he moaned, his head pressed back in his pillow, eyes closed tight.

She started moving faster and leaned forward, her hands propped on the bed beside him. His lips captured the tip of her breast and teased the nipple into a stiff peak then soothed it with his soft tongue. It was distracting enough she nearly lost her rhythm. She clenched her inner muscles and he moaned around her skin. She felt the vibration of it all the way down to her toes.

His fingers found their way to her little nub, rubbing over it, but only enough to tease. Gasping, she gripped the headboard, rocking faster and harder, clenching and grasping his cock with every stroke. He was grunting beneath her, looking up at her as she stared down into his face, eyes blown nearly black. “Come inside me. Remember.”

He nodded and brought her down for a deep kiss. She kept thrusting even as the kiss lingered, the pressure building higher and higher. She tried to control it, to be easy, but her body refused, bouncing hard over his length. Then his fingers were rubbing against her nub again as he broke away and whispered against her lips, “Come with me.”

She did. Lips pressed to his, nails dug into wood, body clenching tighter and tighter around him each time she took him to the hilt. She hit the peak and fell over, her body writhing on top of his as wave after wave washed through her. His name was a drawn out moan as he held her hips against his and came with her. His breathing was labored, his eyes closed, the pulses of his cock inside her making her shiver and shake.

It was different. She knew it was probably a long shot, but she felt like they had truly crossed a threshold. She watched him as he came down. He winced and worry shot through her. “What is it? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

He put his hand over her mouth, his eyes fluttering open. “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I promise.” He dropped his hand to the bed and sighed happily. “I’m fine.”

“You’re alright?”

“Better than I’ve been in I don’t know how long.”

“Then why did you wince?”

“It’s stupid,” he said as she finally crawled off of him and laid on her back.

“Tell me anyway,” she said softly.

He rolled to face her and blew out a harsh breath. “I didn’t last that long.”

She smiled and pressed her lips to his. “It was perfect. All of it. So shut up.”

He kissed her shoulder. “I love you more than anything, Arya.”

She smiled and kissed him. “Good. Cause I’m tryin’ to have your baby over here.”

He chuckled. “Do you want silence?”

“Nah. They need to get used ta noise,” she said with a smile. “Today has been strange and yet, I feel happier and more hopeful for the future.”

“That’s what good sex does to ya,” he teased, goosing her ribs.

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s cause I’ve seen ya up and moving around more today. We went on an unexpected adventure. Felt more like us.”

He nodded. “It was. What happened...it can’t run us the rest a’ our lives. We survived and were on the other side. All those men that hurt us are dead. We’re here and Jon's gonna wake up soon and we'll all be happy again. So fuck em.”

She smiled, swallowing down her fear over Jon. He would wake up and the happiness bubbling within her would grow and bloom. They would all pick of the pieces and make new lives.

She ran her fingers across her husband's brow, falling into his sweet face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Forever.”

She smirked. “This is so different. Usually I’d be climbing back in bed from cleaning myself off from where you came on my stomach or you’re helping me clean it off my ass.”

He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Good different?”

She nodded. “Yes. I want babies with you. More ‘an one. And I want em to terrorize all the other babies. Run loose on the mountain and be wild children that people think can’t be tamed.” She leaned up on her elbow. “I want the girls to buck social standards. And I want the boys to be like you.”

He chuckled. “So, you want feral, mountain girls but ones who still understand social norms so they can go against them. And the boys to work on cars and cook?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “That’s what I want.”

“And what if you get a girl who’s more like Sansa or a boy like Robb?”

She shrugged. “Then we love them just as much,” she whispered. “Not a single child of mine will ever doubt they’re loved for being exactly who they’re meant to be.” He sighed and shook his head, confusing her. “What?”

“I mean...what can I possibly say to that? You’re gonna to be the perfect mother. Already makes me feel inadequate as a father. Never had one of those before. Don't got any idea how to raise a youngin’.”

She smiled, her heart swelling. “You’ll be great. I’ve seen you with Rickon and Bran. The night of Robb and Margaery’s wedding and they stayed here, you didn’t even hesitate when Rickon came in here. You just picked him up and put him in bed with us. And he cuddled you, not me,” she reminded him, brushing her fingers through his short hair. “You’ll be a great father.”

“Gotta admit, I do love that boy.”

Arya grinned. “Everyone does. I’m ready for them to come home.”

“Margaery said not until Jon wakes up. They don’t wanna have to explain things to Rickon, yet.”

Arya nodded, a yawn taking her. “I’m actually tired.”

“Me, too.”

She reached for the quilt at the end of the bed and pulled it over them. “Didn’t we survive last winter with just this quilt over us?”

He nodded. “But, to be fair, we were doing a lot of fuckin’,” he said as he burrowed down in his pillow.”

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Won’t be any different this time.”

He smiled over at her. “I love you. Now, let’s go to sleep, conserve our energy, and really shake this bed next time.”

She laughed. “I’m holdin’ you to that.”

He only nodded as he closed his eyes. She closed hers and fell asleep to dream of little boys and girls running around them so fast they could hardly keep up, but her heart felt full.


	32. That's Why I Hold With All I Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb and Margaery comfort each other after the storm, grief and guilt weighing heavy on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peeps! JW once more. We're only a day behind schedule all thanks to Ashley and her amazingness. She never fails to astound me and I wish you guys knew even a little of her strength, love, and determination. Other than her family and friends, there's nothing she loves more than writing and sharing her love of our favorite characters with all of you. The wonderful backstory on the Hound last chapter was all her, most of this chapter is as well. She goes on about me, but it's her amazing gift of storytelling that's created this fic and I will forever be honored to have written it with her. So, Ash, I love you, and I can't wait to start our next adventure!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Remember our pov schedule and who's up next week ;)
> 
> Also, please be aware that Margaery will be dealing with her past trauma at Joffery's hands. It begins shortly after Olenna arrives if you'd like to skip it.
> 
> See you guys next week! <3

 

And after the storm  
I run and run as the rains come  
And I look up, I look up  
On my knees and out of luck  
I look up

Night has always pushed up day  
You must know life to see decay  
But I won't rot, I won't rot  
Not this mind and not this heart  
I won't rot

And I took you by the hand  
And we stood tall  
And remembered our own land  
What we lived for

But there will come a time  
You'll see, with no more tears  
And love will not break your heart  
But dismiss your fears  
Get over your hill and see  
What you find there  
With grace in your heart  
And flowers in your hair

And now I cling to what I knew  
I saw exactly what was true  
But, oh no more  
That's why I hold  
That's why I hold with all I have  
That's why I hold

There will come a time  
You'll see, with no more tears  
And love will not break your heart  
But dismiss your fears  
Get over your hill and see  
What you find there  
With grace in your heart  
And flowers in your hair

 And there will come a time  
You'll see, with no more tears  
And love will not break your heart  
But dismiss your fears  
Get over your hill and see  
What you find there  
With grace in your heart  
And flowers in your hair

**After the Storm - Mumford and Sons**

**ROBB**

Margaery jolted awake beside him, drawing in deep gulping breaths as she sat up. He followed her. She shaking like a leaf, a thin layer of sweat across her brow. He reached for her, but recoiled, pain lancing through his shoulder. Leave it to him to forget he'd been shot. She turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks as she moved to her knees and clutched his face, crying and kissing him. He held her as best he could, hating to see her so upset and with no idea as to what sort of dream she’d had to put her in that state.

She broke away from him, still crying and he brushed her hair from her face, wrapping his good arm around her. “Are ya alright?”

Her head shook vigorously and kissed him again. Heart aching, he pulled her to sit across his lap and rocked her until her sobs faded to soft whimpers. She finally looked up at him and shifted on the bed, sitting between his legs on her knees. She stroked his face a few more times before pressing a lingering kiss against his lips.

He pulled away and looked up at her. “Please tell me what ya dreamed about that’s got ya so upset, darlin’.”

She ran her hands through her hair, her eyes lowered to his chest. “Joffrey didn’t miss,” she whispered. “But he didn’t shoot you in the shoulder. He shot you in the face, then turned and shot me in the belly.” Her shaking hands went to her small bump. She was growing full of their child by the day. He noticed the difference in her even if others could barely tell. But then, he had his lips and hands on her skin and others did not.

He turned his attention back to the woman he loved as she went to stroking his hair again. He slid his hand over her belly. “We both survived. My shoulder hurts, but I’ll live. We both will. And our baby will be here before you know it,” he assured her. “And you’ll be the best mother on earth cause ya already have been to Rickon and Bran.” He smiled at her. “And we’ll have more babies and fill this mountain with Starks,” he chuckled.

She chuckled as well, a small, weak sound. “Let’s get this one out, first,” she said softly.

“I love ya. I’m sorry ya had a bad dream.”

She leaned into him and he allowed her to kiss him again. He held her tight for several more minutes before they settled back into bed, her head resting on his good shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.

“I love you, Robb.”

He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her hair. “Sleep now, you'll feel better tomorrow.”

*~*

The next morning he found Margaery up before anyone else was moving around. She was seated at the table in the kitchen, a mug of tea still steaming in front of her, her head propped on her hand. She’d already brewed a pot of coffee as well and he rubbed his hand over her shoulder as he passed. “I didn’t hear ya get up? Did ya sleep at all?”

She heaved a sigh. “Not after my dream,” she admitted. “I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing it.”

He sat beside her with his coffee and took her hand. “Promise me you’ll try to sleep a bit today,” he said softly. “I don’t want ya to fall out on your feet tryin’ ta care of everybody.” He brushed a thumb over her cheek. “I’m really sorry ya had to see that. It didn’t happen.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Look, ya killed Joffrey and helped us protect this place.” He kissed her forehead, then pressed his against it. “You did what you had to do. Just like the rest of us.”

Margaery nodded, stroked his cheek and stood. “I’m going to start on breakfast.” She pulled out of his grasp and put her back to him going to the counter. He watched her gather ingredients, her movements slow, as if she was under water or stuck in mud. He went to her, putting his hand on her hip to turn her to him. “Are you alright? Tell me the truth.”

She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. “That dream has me rattled is all.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing, I’ll be fine,” she said as she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Go sit down and rest.”

He rolled his eyes and kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

*~*

Breakfast was cleared away and the household slowly went back to its waiting.

Jon was still out, but Sam was pleased with his vitals. The blood transfusions were doing their job he said and he assured them Jon would be back soon. Robb did his best to believe him.

Missy and Grey took the first shift of sitting with Dany. She hadn't emerged that morning, claiming she wasn't hungry. He was surprised when Marg just smiled softly at her and nodded, leaving his brother's room without a word. He wanted to at least try to get her to eat, but his wife tugged him away and back into the kitchen.

Bronn didn't do much talking that morning either, instead grabbing a couple of biscuits and heading outside. And Sam had just left to check on Gilly and his office when the roar of an engine came over the mountain. Robb got up and looked out the window in the living room, thinking Sam must have forgotten something. But Olenna was pulling to a stop in front of the house. He went to open the door for her, but she came on in without knocking, striding inside, ever the Queen of Thorns.

“Mornin’ Olenna,” he greeted her with a smirk.

“Robb,” she returned as Margaery came from the kitchen and kissed her on the cheek.

“Good morning, Grandmother.”

Olenna hummed and they all went into the kitchen where Margaery had already started on lunch.

“My dear, what’s happened? You don’t look, or sound well.” She looked over at Robb, scowling. “What did you do?”

He just shook his head as his wife rolled her eyes and immediately defended him. “Robb hasn’t done anything and don’t talk to him that way,” she ordered as she went back to the counter.

Olenna put a hand on her hip, unruffled. “What’s the matter then? And don't tell me nothing. Something’s wrong. Is it Jon? I saw that young doctor going into town as I came up.”

Robb let out a sigh. “Jon’s the same, improving Sam says, but she,” he pointed at Margaery, “had a nasty nightmare last night,” he answered. “Joffrey’s aim had been true. Killed me, then shot her in the belly.”

Her grandmother nodded and took a seat at the table. “Yes, well, you killed the sniveling little rat,” she said after a moment and ushered Robb to sit as well.

“Yes,” Margaery snapped, bracing her hands against the sink, her back to them. “I remember.”

“Ah, still feeling guilty?”

Margaery turned and looked at her grandmother, her arms folded over her chest. “I killed someone.”

“You killed a monster,” she clarified.

“Is that what’s going on?” Robb interrupted. “You’ve been feelin’ guilty?”

“Oh, didn’t tell you that, did she?”

Margaery took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed. “I took a life,” she whispered.

“Sit down, my dear,” Olenna ordered softly. “Garlan told me you were having trouble reconciling this. Thought I would come see if you were still trying to hide it.” She smiled, but it was sad. “I do like being right but not at your expense.” She took Margaery’s hands in hers as soon as she sat down. “My dear, Joffrey is not worth losing sleep over.”

Robb sat on the other side of his wife and rubbed a hand over her back. “She’s right. He woulda done exactly as you dreamed, darlin’. Ya know that.”

Margaery swallowed hard, frowning. “I know. But we were taught in church ‘thou shalt not kill’. And I did...I killed someone.”

Olenna took a deep breath and dipped her head to catch Margaery's eyes. “Might I remind you what Joffrey did? Tell me of the night that led you back here.”

Margaery shook her head and pulled her hands away from Olenna's. “Grandmother.”

“Tell me, now.” There was no denying that tone of voice.

His wife swallowed and looked down at the table. “He tried to force himself on me.”

“And how did he do that?” Robb went to interject but Olenna shook a finger at him and he allowed whatever madness she was working to continue with a sigh.

“He hit me,” Margaery whispered.

“Where?”

“Across the cheek.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“He’d take what he wanted.”

“What next?”

“He slammed me against the wall. I was fighting him. He hit me again,” she said, anger now lacing her tone. “Busted my nose and my lip.”

“Say anything to you that time?”

Fat tears slid down her face. Robb pulled his handkerchief out and passed it to her, hating every moment of this charade. “Said he’d make me forget about Robb Stark. He was the only man who would ever get to fuck me and he could make it hurt.”

“What next?”

Margaery’s spine stiffened. She swallowed thickly, wiping her face. “He threw me on the bed. On my face, at first. But...then he pulled my hair and...told me he wanted to hear me scream. He tore my nightgown as he turned me over...” she shook her head. “He tried to push inside me, but I kept fighting and he let my leg slip free and I kneed him in the groin. He yelled that I would pay for that as I ran out of the house.”

Olenna sighed. “Now, tell me, my dear… Was that a monster or a man?”

Margaery looked up at her, her bright blue eyes flashing even as the tears streamed down her face. “A monster.”

“A rabid animal. And we shoot those,” Olenna said sharply. “Now, everytime you feel even the slightest bit of remorse, you remember what he did to you.”

She nodded. “Yes, Grandmother.”

“Good girl.”

He wasn't surprised when Margaery turned in his arms and buried her face in his shoulder, taking deep breaths. Olenna gave him a nod as he ran a hand down Margaery’s back. He pressed a kiss to her head. “I gotcha,” he whispered.

He was glad to note the remorse on the older woman’s face. Not even she liked what she had to do to make her granddaughter see that killing Joffrey was justified.

*~*

Robb stopped at Jon’s door and knocked. Dany bid him to enter and he found her seated beside Jon, holding his hand, just as she'd been for days. She was sporting dark circles beneath her eyes, parts of her hair had been pinned back, but most still hung limp around her face. Jon was going to kick their asses when he woke up and saw they hadn't taken better care of her.

He walked in and stood at the foot of the bed, looking at his brother. His skin was still paler than usual. Bruises on his arm from the IVs were clearly forming, dark and angry. He was so still. It was Jon, but it wasn’t. He was just a shell and unless he woke up, that’s how he would remain. Robb hated the doubt he had, gnawing at him like hungry rats. He wanted to be like Margaery, sure that Jon would live, but what if this was the price they paid for winning? Able to defeat the man responsible for most of their suffering, but losing the heart of them all.

He moved to Jon’s other side and sat in the empty chair, glancing at Dany who stared at Jon with the same kind of love that shone in Margaery’s eyes for him. _Unwavering. Loyal. Determined._ Seated with her knees pulled up to her chest, her arm wrapped around them, she looked small and fragile. He knew there was nothing further from the truth. Dany was one of the strongest women he’d ever met.

His gaze turned back to his brother and he recalled the day Jon had met her. He smiled. “I reckon you heard ‘bout Jon on the first day he met ya.”

She nodded, smiled slightly. “Gendry and Arya told me he couldn’t stop smiling.”

He chuffed. “When he climbed outta the truck that night I knew somethin’ was up with him. Everythin’ bout his demeanor had changed. He was damn near giddy.” He smiled a bit at the memory, picking at a hole in his britches leg. “Took me a minute to guess why. I like to a' fell out of my chair when he told me he was thinkin’ bout callin’ on ya.” He looked over at her and swallowed at the tightness climbing up his throat from his chest. “You gave Jon back ta us.”

She shook her head, lips pressed tight between her teeth. Her chin still trembled. “I...I was set on a goal when I came into town,” she breathed out. “Kill Tywin and take down his empire. Jon was unexpected. Shattered all the walls I had built in just a few moments.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “He deserves better than me.”

“He’d be furious to hear you say that,” Robb rebuked. Her sad eyes glanced his way for only a moment before turning back to Jon’s prone figure on the bed. He cleared his throat. “I want ya to know, Dany… Whatever happens, you'll always have us. All a’ us. You're our family now.”

She looked up, smirking, her pretty eyes twinkling. "I hope so, since I'll be living on this mountain with you."

He laughed. "Yeah, I reckon it's a good thing we like ya."

Her smile faded, her expression turning sincere. “I’ve grown to love all of you, and I'm honored to be a part of this family, so thank you.”

He shook his head. “Nothin’ to thank us for, we're the ones that owe you. None a’ us would've made it without your help. We won't ever forget that, what you did for us.”

She nodded, her smile returning for just a flash before she went back to watching Jon, stroking his fingers with hers.

“Would ya mind givin’ me a few minutes with him alone?” He could see her hesitate, like she was going to argue. “Please? If he so much as twitches I’ll let ya know. And you need a break besides. He's gonna be all over us for not takin’ care a’ you. Help me out. Maybe go soak in the tub for awhile, that always helps Margaery feel better. And eat somethin’?”

She sat for a moment, squeezed Jon's hand, then stood. “Watch him close, his eyes have been twitching.”

“I will. And thanks, I promise I'll holler if he wakes up,” he told her as she walked out.

He closed the door behind her and took up the chair she'd been in, looking over Jon once more. His shoulder twinged but not even that hurt like his heart did.

He grabbed Jon’s hand for just a moment before letting it go. “Gonna be real honest with ya, brother, I ain’t capable of doin’ all this on my own. It’s only ever worked since we got home cause you were here helpin’ me. I lost my Ma, we lost Pa, we nearly lost this farm, but you felt like the anchor I needed to get me to push through all a’ that and we made it work.”

He shook his head, glancing out the window. There was still snow on the ground, which was fitting, considering it was Jon's birthday. _Please, Lord. Let today be the day._ He turned back to his brother.

“I’ve been tryin’ ta be positive, Margaery has no doubt you’ll wake up. She's in the kitchen bakin’ you a cake she's so sure. But the damn guilt's eatin' me alive, Jon. I hate to even lay doubt at your feet, but I feel like this might be my punishment for not bein’ enough,” he whispered, strained and broken. “I don’t wanna tell Rickon and Bran. I don’t wanna watch Dany suffer everyday cause ya didn’t come back. We’re just now gettin’ Arya and Gendry back, I fear we'll lose em both if we lose you.” He swallowed down the heavy knot in his throat and ran a hand down his face. “I don’t wanna have to explain ta all of em...” he brushed at the tears that fell. “Don’t make me. Don’t make me have ta tell em. Don't make me do this on my own.”

He took a deep breath and dug his handkerchief out, blowing his nose, attempting to get himself together. He laid a hand on Jon's arm. “You’re the heart a’ this family. Ya have been for a long time,” he breathed. “We need ya. I need my brother. Dany needs her love. Arya needs her hero. Gendry needs his best friend. Bran needs his kindred spirit, and Rickon needs the only father he’s ever known. That’s who you are to him, more so than I’ve ever been.” He sniffed, wiping away more tears. “We need ya, Jon. All a’ us. This ain’t gonna feel much like home if ya ain’t here.”

Silence met his pleas. Their lives weren't like the novels Jon loved, Robb knew his words wouldn't be the key to bringing him back, but he felt lighter for having confessed them. Just as he always did when he confided in Jon. He sat quiet for a while, praying, waiting, till a knock at the door had him turning toward it. Dany was back.

She entered quietly, her face falling to see Jon just as she left him. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I forgot my clothes. Decided to check on the house while I was out.”

“How’s the buildin’ goin’?” he asked.

“Good. They have the foundations in,” she told him as she went to Jon's side and brushed his hair back. “Hopefully he doesn’t take his time waking up and he can add some input before they really get started.”

Robb chuckled. “He’ll tell ya to make it your home.”

She shook her head. “He’s the only one that will make it feel like home.”

He frowned and sighed. “He’ll wake up. Mark my words, he’ll wake up.” He had to believe that, they all did. He stood and walked to the door. “Not sure if you know or not, but uh,” he pointed to Jon, “it's his birthday today,” he whispered with a grin.

Dany straighten and turned toward him, her eyes blown wide. “You're joking?”

He gave a chuckle, shaking his head. “No ma’am. How bout I get Sam to sit with him? I ain't forgettin’ you got some restin’ to do.”

She nodded and smiled, taking Jon’s hand into her own.

Robb closed the door behind him and wandered into the kitchen after sending Sam to Dany. Bronn was seated at the table in the kitchen speaking with Margaery as she stirred what he assumed was the batter for Jon's birthday cake.

“No change I take it?” Bronn asked.

Robb shook his head. “No.”

The older man stood, frowning. “We need to bury your wolf. Before it snows, again.”

Robb felt an emptiness settle into his heart and the knot swell back up in his throat. “I’m not ready.”

Margaery threw Bronn a look and ushered him from the room. She walked toward him, tears in her eyes. “It’s a lot to ask, right now. The waiting for Jon to wake up, you shouldn’t have to do this right now.”

“Then don’t make me.”

She stepped into his arms and hugged herself to him. “I’m not making you do anything, my love,” she whispered. “If you’re not ready you don’t have to, but do you honestly think you’ll ever be ready?”

He buried his face in her hair and released a shaky breath. “I can’t watch him be buried.”

She pulled back and brushed his fingers along his jaw. “Alright. You don’t have to. I can ask Arya and Gendry to help, if that makes you more comfortable.”

He nodded, knowing Arya would understand the pain that might come with losing her wolf, though she still had hers.

Margaery pushed him into a chair. “Wait here.”

He watched her grab a heavy coat and walk out the front door. He lowered his head, trying to keep his tears at bay. He didn’t know how long Margaery was gone, but he startled when her fingers ran through his hair. She gave him a small smile. “Arya and Gendry are handling it. Bronn is helping them. They said they would send him back to tell us when they were done.”

He nodded and pulled her down into his lap, leaning his head against hers. “Thank you.”

*~*

It was going to snow again soon. He could feel the cold seeping into his very bones as he and Margaery walked up the hill to the plot where Grey Wind had been buried. It was such a hard thing for him to grasp, that his ever faithful wolf was gone. Seeing his grave was the last thing he wanted right then, but he owed him, no matter how much it hurt.

They found Arya and Gendry standing over a mound of dirt. Gendry gave him a nod as he leaned against the shovel. One of them had fashioned a cross from some old boards, and while he thought it might have been Arya, he somehow knew it was Gendry. And he thought again how lucky they were their little sister had found a good man to love her.

Arya came over, hugging him, head lowered toward the grave. He pulled his little sister close and kissed the top of her head. A rustling came from the overgrowth and they pulled apart, Nymeria and Ghost appearing. The white wolf had constantly been at Jon’s side since his injury, only venturing out to hunt. He was surprised to see him.

Nymeria sniffed at the grave and whimpered. She let up a howl and Ghost followed suit. The lonely sound sent a wave of grief washing through him. Deep in the woods other wolves began answering their calls, until the mountain echoed with their mournful song. Robb wondered if they’d all been waiting for this. His family believed the wolves had the ability to see and feel as their humans did, but sometimes it was shocking how much.

Tears ran from his eyes, leaving chilled trails down his cheeks, his breath puffed out in front of him, his heart feeling as if it would shatter if he breathed too deep. Margaery gripped his hand and he squeezed back, silently thanking her for the strength.

“Thanks to both of ya for doin’ this.”

Arya rubbed her hand through Nymeria’s fur and looked up at her brother. “You woulda done the same for me,” she whispered, just as Ghost took off for the house at a brisk trot. They all watched him go. Arya shifted on her feet. “Any change in Jon?”

Margaery shook her head. “No. Dany is with him. I’m sure she’ll let us know the second it happens.”

Robb stared at the mound of dirt, his eyes growing bleary and burning. “Can...can I have a minute?”

Gendry ushered Arya down the hill as Margaery handed him the single winter rose she'd picked behind the house. She left a kiss on his cheek before walking away.

He squatted down and placed the rose on top of the dirt. “I'll miss you, boy,” he whispered. A cold wind answered him, blowing through the trees. He shivered in response, looking up at the grey clouds thick and dark above him. The irony was a sweet twist of pain.

Closing his eyes, he remembered the day Jon had stumbled onto the wolf pups. They hadn't picked which one they wanted most, instead each wobbling ball of fur choose their own sibling.

He remembered telling him goodbye the day he left to fight on foreign soil, the wolf's sad eyes filling his own with tears. But he was there, waiting on him when he returned, ever the silent companion listening to his woes and absorbing the tears he shed at the loss of his family, giving him comfort and strength. He’d been by his side when Margaery left him. Protected him from other predators that could have been in the woods as he drank himself into a drunken stupor. He felt like Grey Wind had been a part of him. The fearless, protective part that made him step into danger to protect those he loved.

And now he was gone.

He stood, rubbing a hand over his aching shoulder, wincing at the feel of the healing bullet wound. It burned and ached just like his heart did. He couldn’t lose Grey Wind _and_ Jon. Fate wasn’t that cruel, was it?

He closed his eyes once again, taking a deep breath before he turned toward home. Margaery was waiting at the base of the hill for him. He took her outstretched hand and let her love soothe him as best it could.

Bronn was rocking on the porch when they got back, his pipe in his hand, puffing on it. Arya and Gendry were standing on the top step speaking to him. There was a large duffel bag beside Bronn's rocker.

“Goin’ somewhere?” he asked him.

“Headin’ back to Olenna’s. Been collecting my things most of the day,” he answered.

Arya folded her arms over her chest. “And what if we need ya?”

Bronn smirked as he looked at the ground. “You got dozens of Dothraki on this mountain. You don’t need me. Besides, my part is done.” He stood and held out a hand to Gendry. “I’m glad that both of ya lived. Now have good lives.”

He shook Arya’s hand next, both of them silent, but grinning softly. Gendry ushered her inside and he and Margaery joined him on the porch. “My grandmother told you to come home when she was here earlier, didn't she?” Marg asked.

He nodded. “She did.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Robb questioned.

“For one, you ain’t the one payin’ me, and two...figured it’d be easier if I just told ya I was leavin’ and just left. I don't want no fuss and y'all got other things to worry about.”

Margaery huffed out a frustrated breath. “That was a stupid idea.”

“Stupid or not, that’s what you’re gettin’,” he said, taking her hand in his and giving it a pat.

Robb frowned and shook his head. “I’m conflicted.”

“Oh? Bout what?”

“I don’t know if I’m glad you won't be orderin’ us around no more, or mad at ya for leavin’.”

“Go with glad. Makes it easier on everyone.” He shrugged. “Besides, this ain’t the last time you’ll ever see me. I still work for Olenna. I’m sure your lot will get in some kind a trouble and I’ll have to save your asses again.”

Robb chuffed. “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”

Bronn gave a small smile. “Look, you’ll take care of you and yours. I’ll just be in the background makin’ sure you don’t fuck it up too bad.”

Margaery placed a kiss on his cheek. “We'll miss you, take care of yourself and don't let grandmother get away with too much.” Bronn just smiled and she walked inside leaving the two of them alone.

Bronn stood staring at him for a moment, eyes narrowed but twinkling. “You’ll keep her safe and she’ll keep being too good for you. Everything will work out like it’s supposed to.”

He shook his head. “Just when I think I’m gonna miss ya, you open your fuckin’ mouth.”

Bronn smirked and grabbed his bag from the ground and held out a hand. “Stay well, Stark.”

“Stay safe, Blackwater.”

Giving a nod he went to his car and threw the bag inside. A few moments later he was gone. Robb took a deep breath of cold air, letting it fill his lungs and chip away at the melancholy that wanted to take ahold of him.

He went inside and joined his family in the kitchen. Margaery was seated at the table, a steaming cup of tea in front of her, Arya and Gendry across from her with coffee. The house was quiet. Too quiet. He longed for the days it had been filled with his happy family.

Walking up to Margaery, he rubbed her shoulder and in the silence he swore he heard voices. He strained his ears, trying to determine whose they were and where they were coming from. Could've been Missy and Grey, but then, the murmurs weren't coming from the room they were sharing.

He removed his coat and continued to listen and suddenly, like a jolt of lightning he knew. _Jon._ He rushed passed the table, hearing the scrape of chairs against the floor as the others jumped up to follow him. He didn’t even knock as he threw open Jon’s door. His heart did a somersault, nearly leaping from his chest to see his brother’s eyes open wide as both he and Dany stared back at him in surprise. He was awake.

Jon was awake!


	33. And We'll Live a Long Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happily ever after that was promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it; the last "official" chapter of Legends. I will not cry, I will not cry! (Only because I have already cried buckets while writing this chapter, lol) But do not fret, this is not the end. There will be three epilogues, one for each couple, a one shot or two, and possibly a short companion fic that takes our bootleggers a decade or so into the future. But this is the end of the weekly updates alas. My daughter's wedding is now less than a month away and Ashley is busy with recovery, PT, and job hunting. You guys please send her new job vibes!!! 
> 
> We are both still writing, for Legend's and our own fics though, so we won't disappear on you. We're so in hopes that you love this chapter as much as we do and that it makes all the angst and tears worth it. It's just the beginning of our happily ever after for these beans. Regardless we both want to thank all of you for the amazing amount of love and support you have shown us during this bootlegging adventure. We can't begin to tell you all how much it's meant to us, like there truly aren't words! All I can say is we love you and thank you! 
> 
> And Ash, thank you for making this the most wonderful writing experience I've ever had, hell, one of the best I've ever had period. I'll never forget it and you and this fic will always have a special place in my heart! <3

 

 

 

You saw my pain washed out in the rain  
Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins  
But you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart  
And you knelt beside my hope torn apart

But the ghosts that we knew  
will flicker from view  
We'll live a long life

So give me hope in the darkness  
that I will see the light  
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright  
But I will hold as long as you like  
Just promise me we'll be alright

So lead me back, turn south from that place  
And close my eyes to my recent disgrace  
'Cause you know my call  
And we'll share my all  
And our children come  
and they will hear me roar

So give me hope in the darkness  
that I will see the light  
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright  
But I will hold as long as you like  
Just promise me we'll be alright

But hold me still, bury my heart on the coals  
But hold me still, bury my heart on the coals  
And hold me still, bury my heart next to yours

So give me hope in the darkness  
that I will see the light  
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright  
But I will hold on as long as you like  
But I will hold on with all of my might  
Just promise me we'll be alright

But the ghosts that we knew  
made us black and all blue  
But we'll live a long life  
And the ghosts that we knew  
will flicker from view  
And we'll live a long life

Ghosts That We Knew - Mumford and Sons

**Jon**

 

He came back to himself slowly, his limbs heavy and refusing to move. Everything ached. But he was warm, the bed beneath him soft. He didn't remember getting into it. He struggled to open his eyes, his lids feeling as if they had weights attached to them. With some effort and a few tries he got them opened. The room, _his room_ , was painted in a soft silvery glow. He looked toward the window. It was snowing again, but who sat in front of the window was more important than what was outside of it.

She was there, scrunched up in a straight back chair, bundled in a quilt. Her heels hooked on the top rung, knees up, arms wrapped around them. She was lost in her thoughts, not yet noticing he was awake. It only took one glance at her to have him wondering how long he'd laid there and tortured her. She looked so tired. Her eyes were hollowed, dark bruises beneath them, skin pale as snow, her pretty hair limp.

He was about to end her vigil when Ghost rose up into his line of sight and walked over, nails clicking across the floor. He must've been laying at her feet.

As his wolf licked at his hand her head jerked around. Her sweet face twisted with anguish and a strangled noise left her. It may have been his name. She was up and out of her chair a breath later, stumbling to his side. Ghost hurried out of her way.

She didn't speak, just laid herself across his chest and cried. He held her as best he could. His hands and arms were slow to move, aching something fierce, but not as much as his heart. He only used his right one, too worried to move the left, with the numerous needles and tubing stuck in it.

He kissed the top of her head, choking back his own tears at her pitiful cries. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered, so quiet he barely heard it himself, but he was unable to do more. His throat was dry as bone, tongue thick as cotton.

Her head popped up, tears streaming down her cheeks, a weak heart-wrenching smile on her beautiful face. She scooted closer and kissed him. His lips, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Her hands cupping his face as if he were made of glass. “God Jon, I thought I'd lost you,” she gasped, “Don't you ever do this to me again.”

“I ain't... leavin’ ya.” He swallowed and coughed. “Remember?”

Her eyes widened at his strained words and she let him go, reaching for a cup on his bedside table. “Water?” she asked, holding up a spoonful.

He nodded and she gave him several sips, cool and crisp. They felt like heaven sliding down his throat. He licked at his parched lips and sighed. “Thank you.”

She sat the cup down and brushed his hair off his face, her brow creased. “How do you feel? Are you in a lot of pain?”

He shook his head, and took her arm, pulling her close again. “I feel like a limp dishrag, but let me hold you.” She came willingly, a choked laugh leaving her as she laid herself across his chest again. A shuddering breath rippled through her, making his heart ache all the more. He held her as tightly as he could. “I'm sorry I scared ya. I didn't mean to.”

She shook her head and squeezed him gently. “Shhhh, I know you didn't. You're awake, it's all going to be okay now.”

He rubbed circles over her back, her breaths still trembling through her. “Are you alright? How long did I make ya sit here worryin’?”

She snuggled into him deeper, her face pressed into his neck. “I'm okay, much better now.” He heard her swallow and take another deep breath. “And it's been four days.”

He squeezed her tight, guilt slicing through him. “Shit, Dany. I'm sorry.”

She sat up again and he immediately missed her warmth. “Hush that. It wasn't your fault.” Her beautiful face was pinched and fretful. He reached up and stroked her hair back behind her ear. “You came back to me, Jon, that's all that matters,” she whispered, wiping at her tears.

“What happened?” He didn't remember past the porch. Ghost was okay, Grey Wind wasn't. His heart clenched tight with fear. “Is Robb alright?”

She nodded, rubbing her hand over his side. “Robb's okay. Healing up, worried about you of course.”

“Everyone else?”

She stroked his cheek, her smile sad. “Everyone’s okay. I promise. They're all going to be so happy you're awake. I should go tell them, I promised. They've been worried sick.”

He grabbed her hand. “Don't, not yet. Stay with me.”

“Okay, I won’t go anywhere. Not without you,” she promised, squeezing his hand.

“Tell me what happened.”

“What do you remember?”

He closed his eyes and sorted through his memories, his brow creasing at the dark and dangerous scenes playing in his head. So many dead. Her fingertips gently scraped through his beard and he looked at her again. “Everythin’ up until Bronn walked up to me fussin’. There's nothin’ after that.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes falling to their entwined fingers. “The bullet nicked the artery in your leg. It was holding at first, then you moved too much… Roose did to you what I did to Ramsay,” she whispered, chewing on her bottom lip. “By the time we got you in the kitchen… You were bleeding out, I couldn't stop it,” she gasped, shaking her head, fat tears running down her cheeks. “They grabbed you and put you on the kitchen table and made me leave. It took hours.”

He pulled her down again, hating to see and hear how much he'd hurt her. “Shhhh, that's enough. You lived it once, I ain't makin’ ya do it again,” he soothed her, stroking her hair.

“It's not your fault, Jon,” she breathed. “I don't blame you.” She picked her head up and placed her hand against his cheek. “You’re back, let's just concentrate on that, okay?”

He nodded and held her sweet face in his hand. His eyes burned, a great welling of love rising up within him. Apparently he'd almost died, nearly left her all alone. He wouldn't wait another moment.

“Marry me, Dany?”

The door burst open and his family spilled into the room. He and Dany both startled and stared at them wide-eyed.

“You're awake!”

“Dany! You promised!”

“Oh, thank goodness!”

“Told ya he would.”

“Y’all let me through, I need to check on him.”

Jon looked from all their excited faces back to Dany's softly smiling one. She pulled his fingers to her mouth and kissed them, giving a nod so tiny he wasn't sure it even was one. _Was that a yes?_ Heat flared within his chest, his heartbeat so strong it hurt and stole his breath. Still smiling, she let him go and stood.

Then he was surrounded and Dany was shuffled back behind Sam and his boisterous family. He loved them all, but he wanted to growl at them to be quiet and go the fuck away.

Sam shushed them harshly and they finally went silent. “How do you feel, Jon?” he asked, coming at him with a stethoscope and pressing it to his chest.

“Weak as hell, but alright I think,” he rasped out. He really hadn't taken too much stock of himself, too worried about Dany.

“Take a few slow deep breaths for me.”

He did as Sam asked, his eyes never leaving hers where she stood across the room by the dresser. He wanted so badly to look and see if the little box still sat on top of it. His eyes darted to her hands, but she had them tucked against her, her arms crossed. _Shit, had she been wearing her ring or not? Why didn't he think to look?_

“Your heart is poundin’, talk to me,” Sam said, looking down at him with a worried brow.

“I'm alright, just tryin’ to get my bearin’s,” he deflected, with the hope that would appease him.

Apparently it did. Sam went to checking other things, signs of fever, his lungs and blood pressure. Those done he folded the quilts back and inspected his leg. Jon had felt the stinging pull of a healing incision from the moment he woke, but had pushed it aside. He raised his head up to get a look. It was longer than he expected, but didn't seem infected, the skin only pink and not an angry red.

A smile spread across Sam's round face as he covered him back up. “I think you’re alright, _finally_.” He shook his head and let out a heavy breath, his shoulders going limp. “You scared the shit out of us, Jon.”

He winced, looking around the room, each face staring back at him more grateful than the last. Marg and Dany were hugging and crying, despite their smiles. Robb's eyes were shining with his own unshed tears and Arya and Gendry had each other wrapped up tight, both smiling at him like it was Christmas.

Swallowing down his guilt, he apologized. “I'm sorry. I didn—”

They all cut him off at once, none wanting to hear it. Arya came over and surprised him with a hug. He squeezed her and kissed her head. When she sat up she scowling at him. “Once you're all better I'm gonna kick your ass for scarin’ us. And you owe me and Gendry some blood, Tormund too.”

He knew she wasn't really mad at him, but that didn't keep the remorse from turning in his stomach, heavy and bitter. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Sorry, guess I deserve an ass kickin’.”

Robb grinned at him, sitting down on the end of the bed. “You do, but I think we'll all let ya off the hook.”

“Yeah,” Arya chuckled. “You get a free pass this time.”

Gendry walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, looking down at him. “Second time I’ve saved your life. Feels like it’s becomin’ a habit,” he said with a wink and a grin.

Jon nodded. “One I can’t repay.”

Gendry’s good nature shined through in his widening smile as he shook his head. “Nah, don't need repayin’. Ya didn’t kill me when ya found out ‘bout me and Arya. I figure that makes us even.”

He glanced at his sister and her arms wrapped around Gendry’s middle. The bruises on his face still lingered but the brightness in his eyes told Jon the old Gendry was back. And Arya looked just as happy. He breathed easier.

“Thank you, both. For everything.”

“That's what family's for,” they said as one, making everyone chuckle.

He looked over to Robb. “You healin’ up alright?

His brother nodded. “Yeah. I'm gonna be fine, we all are now you're awake.”

“Sorry it took me so long.”

“Stop apologizin’.”

He ignored Robb and looked at his sister in-law. “You good, Marg? Baby alright?” he asked, his need to know for sure everyone was fine too strong to resist.

She smiled at him, squeezing Dany at her side. “We're both good, even better now you're back with us.”

“She never once doubted you'd wake up,” Robb said, “Kept all us worry warts thinkin’ positive.”

He went to apologise again, but they all shook their heads. He rolled his eyes at them. “Where's the boys?” he asked, a subject change needed. He'd always be sorry and they'd always tell him not to be. Downcast eyes and silence answered him. He scowled. “We promised em they could come home. Why ain't y'all went and got em?” Then a sudden fear rose up and took him. _What if Tywin had found out where they were? What if he got to them before coming to the mountain?_ He sat up as far as his weak body would allow, which wasn't far. “They're okay, ain't they?”

Dany stepped up to the end of the bed and rubbed his foot. “They’re fine, love. We just didn't want to upset them. Bran might have been okay, but Rickon didn't need to see you like you were, or any of us either. We wanted to bring them back to a happy home.”

He sunk back into the bed with a sigh of relief and took a few steadying breaths. “Well, I'm up now. Some a’ y'all go get em.”

Everyone smiled or chuckled at him. Arya stood and took Gendry's hand. “We can go. Been missin’ the rascals and we need to go to the bank and lumber mill anyway.”

“Oh,” Dany said, pulling away and going to his bedside table. “Will you take my order in?” she asked, pulling out a sheet of paper and passing it to Gendry, who nodded and took it from her.

“Order? The mill? Why y'all goin’ there?” Jon asked.

Arya's grey eyes went bright. Everyone else was smiling wide at him. He was starting to feel like a sideshow at the fair. “You ain't gonna believe this,” his sister said, “but we own it now. Me and Gendry.”

“What? How?” He was so confused.

“The Hound, he didn't make it. Two days ago his lawyer shows up with papers. He left everything he owned to me and Gendry. Includin’ the mill.”

Well damn. “Didn't know he owned it.”

Arya chuffed. “None a’ us did.”

“I hate he's gone, he was a good man even if he tried not to act like it. But I'm happy for y'all. Don't reckon you’ll need to run shine for us no more.”

“We can worry bout all that later,” Gendry said. “Keep restin’, Rickon's probably gonna wear you out quick once we get back with him.” He steered Arya toward the door. “We'll try not to take long.”

His sister turned back, smirking. “Oh, and happy birthday big brother, I left my crutch for ya,” she said, pointing over to the corner of his room. Sure enough, a pair of them stood leaning against the wall. “Sam got ya another one to go with it. You ain't got no excuse to keep being lazy now. Time ta get up.”

Gendry rolled his eyes and pushed her out the door. “See y'all in a bit. Happy birthday, Jon.”

Everyone waved them off with a smile before turning back to him, staring at him like maybe he'd disappear if they looked away. He let them look, figuring he owed them, but after awhile it got too much.

“Is it really my birthday? I'd forgot it was coming.”

“Sure is,” Robb said, smile bright and big. “Margaery even baked you a cake.”

“Butter and chocolate, your favorite,” his sister in-law added.

He gave her a smile. “Thanks, Marg, ya didn't need to go to no trouble. I appreciate it though.”

She waved him off. “With you waking up it feels more like it's our birthdays than yours.”

Dany came around the end of the bed and sat beside him. She leaned down and kissed him, not caring they had an audience. “Happy Birthday, my love,” she whispered, her eyes glowing bright with happy tears. She stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. “I'll give you your present later.”

“You didn't have to get me nothin’. You're enough.”

“I wanted to,” she said and smiled, something secret hidden in it. He could only imagine the surprise she had for him. He just hoped his body would be up for it.

Ghost walked up then, sat down beside the bed and rested his big head on Jon's stomach. The swish and thump of his tail filled the quiet. He ran a hand into his thick fur and watched the wolf's eyes close in pleasure. Dany chuckled softly and gave him a good scratch under his ear.

“He's barely left your side,” Robb said, his voice gone strained. Margaery stepped up behind him and rubbed his good shoulder, leaning over and placing a kiss to the top of his head.

Jon felt even worse than he had before. His brother’s week hadn’t been a good one. “I'm real sorry 'bout Grey Wind.”

Robb just nodded, dropping his eyes to his lap where his fist was clenching and unclenching. Jon shook Ghost just a bit until the wolf's eyes met his. He tilted his head toward his brother and Ghost took his cue, padding across the floor to his brother and laying his head on his lap.

Robb chuffed, a sad smile on his face. He rubbed a hand over Ghost's head and down his neck. Jon could see he was near tears, his own wanting to rise up as well. He thought it best to give them something else to focus on.

“So Sam, how long till you let me outta this bed?” he asked. “I hope not long, or someone's gonna have a mess to clean up, cause I gotta piss something fierce.”

“Jon!” Dany scolded and popped his stomach as she laughed along with the rest of them.

“Well, I do. Somebody help me up,” he grunted, pushing himself up.

“Wait, wait,” Sam said hurrying over. “Let me get your IV's unhooked first.”

Jon laid back again and Dany moved out of the way as Sam went to messing with the tubing and clamps. “Can't you just take em out? I hate needles.” He couldn't even look at his arm, the sight of them stuck in his skin made his stomach threaten to turn itself inside out.

Sam shook his head. “I really shouldn't. You still need fluids, at least until we can get a good meal in you,” he said.

“Please? I promise to eat whatever you want me to. I could eat a horse I'm so damn hungry.”

Dany sat at his feet and rubbed a hand up his shin. “We fed you as much broth as we could without choking you. Tell me what you want and I'll go fix it.”

“No,” Margaery cut in. “Tell me and _I'll_ go.”

“How about _I_ go get it,” as soft voice came from the doorway. It was Missandei, grinning slyly, Grey doing the same over her shoulder. They both gave him a little wave.

“Oh, hey y'all,” he said. “Thought ya might've went home. Good to see ya.”

Their smiles grew. “It’s good to see you,” Missandei said. “What can I get you to eat?”

“Whatever you have, as long as it's food, I'll eat it.”

Sam looked up at her. “Nothin’ too heavy yet, he'll only chuck it back up. Grey, wanna help me with him? Robb doesn't need to be strainin’, he'll pull his stitches.”

Missy left and Grey came in. They rest of them all shuffled back and out of the way. Marg pointed at Dany. “You sit and rest. I'm going to get you some food too,” she said and went out the door.

“I'm doing this against my better judgement, Jon,” Sam mumbled, leaning down and tugging at the tape over his skin.

Jon closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. Dany's small hand came to rest on his foot. He concentrated on the way her thumb was drawing circles over him instead of the pinch and burn of Sam removing the IV's. “I'll just have to put it back in if you don't behave.”

“I will, I promise.”

“I know you expect to walk yourself in there,” Sam went on, “but you ain't gonna. You're weak as a new kitten. It's gonna take a few days to get your strength back. Maybe longer. I don't want you movin’ that leg any more than you have to over the next week or two.”

“All right, I swear I'll take it easy,” he swore and hissed as Sam pulled the last needle free. _Thank the Lord._

The blood was wiped away and Sam taped some gauze over his arm before pulling back the quilts to let him up. He pushed himself upright, as Sam took his leg and helped him swing around and put his feet on the floor. He had to grab onto Sam's arm. The room was spinning like a top.

“Easy. Take slow, deep breaths,” someone mumbled. He couldn't tell who, his blood was pounding in his ears too loud.

Eventually the dizziness passed. Sam was still in front of him, Grey beside him, both waiting to help him up. Dany stood at the end of the bed, his old ratty robe in her hands. He was glad. He didn't much feel like parading through the house in just his shorts and it was cold to boot.

“Don't be surprised if the dizziness hits again once you stand up. And remember, no pressure on that foot. Use Grey like a crutch,” Sam ordered.

At his nod they pulled him up, he helped only a little, because that's all he could do. Sam wasn't joking about him being weak, but at least the dizziness wasn't as bad that time. They got him out into the middle of the room and Dany helped him get his robe on. She got close enough he left a kiss on her head.

They slowly started making their way toward the bathroom. “Don't suppose you're gonna let me have a bath while we're in there,” he questioned Sam.

His friend chuckled. “You suppose right. Can't be soaking that incision, it'll get infected.”

“But I stink.”

“Yeah, ya do,” Sam agreed. Grey snorted.

Dany rubbed his back. He hadn't realized she was following them until then. “I'll give you a sponge bath after you eat, how's that?”

He looked over his shoulder at her and she winked, her smile mischievous. That sounded all kinds of good to him. “Yeah, I reckon that'll be alright,” he answered her, ignoring Grey and Sam's snickering.

Having help pissing was no fun, but there was no way around it. Sam did let him wash his hands and face and brush his teeth. That alone made him feel cleaner and worlds better. But by the time he was done he felt ready to collapse. They got him back to his room. Missy and Margaery were just finishing up changing his sheets. A tray of food sat steaming on the dresser, the smells so good his stomach growled loud enough they all heard it and laughed.

Soon enough he was propped up in bed, sipping on a bowl of chicken soup and nibbling on a biscuit. He took it slow, knowing Sam was right. It would all come right back up if he wasn't careful. But damn if it wasn't good. He ordered Dany to sit beside him and eat too. He could tell she was thinner and worn out from what he'd put her through. It made his heart hurt. He'd been fussing over her as much as she did him in the coming days he was sure.

Everyone sat around and talked with him while he and Dany ate. They filled him in on everything that happened after, the good and bad. He felt even worse for not being around to help them, and for adding to the upset. He apologized some more and they fussed at him for it.

He was beyond happy to hear Dany hadn't waited for him to wake to start their house. Knowing she'd hung onto her hope and determination despite his state let him know her spirit hadn't been dampened. And that she'd chosen him and his family for her own. The peace and joy he felt knowing it was almost more than his heart could hold.

Sam went over everything they needed to know for him to get back on his feet. What he could do and when. What he couldn't. What to do if this or that happened. He promised to come back up the mountain and check on him every other day then left. But only after he got a round of hugs and handshakes for all he'd done for them, Dany telling him to let her know if they owed him anything else and Margaery piling his arms full of food to take home.

After that everyone seemed to deflate. Weariness weighing them down despite the relief they all felt. His family had been through hell and it was plain to see. Jon took his chance, for their sake and his, and gently let them know he was exhausted and needed more sleep before the boys got back. Which was the honest truth, but he also wanted time alone with Dany.

Missy and Grey made themselves scarce, Robb and Margaery only dwindled a bit longer, leaving once she had brought in some hot water, soap, and towels for his bath and Robb had ushered Ghost out to hunt.

Dany shut the door behind them and he was reaching for her before the lock even clicked into place. She came to his side, crawling across the bed to lay against him. They just held each other for a time and soaked in a few minutes of peace and calm.

After awhile she sat up and rubbed his chest. “We better get you cleaned up before that water gets cold.”

He reluctantly let her go. “Yeah, I know I probably stink to high heaven.”

She wrinkled her cute nose and grinned. “Maybe just to low heaven?”

He snorted as she went to gather everything up. When she brought it to his bedside table he finally let himself look for the little box he'd left on the dresser days ago. It was still there, but the letter was missing. He'd taken careful glances at her hands while she'd been eating. There was no ring on any of her delicate fingers. He tried not to worry and fret. Maybe it was just too big and she didn't want to lose it. Nothing had changed in the way she looked at him since he'd woke. If anything her heart shined from her eyes all the more each time his met hers.

They just needed to talk. He wouldn't get broody, not yet.

She'd put on an apron and soaped a rag up and was standing over him waiting. Margaery or Missy one had put a thick blanket over his sheets for him to lay on, to keep them from getting wet. She'd be bathing him right in the bed.

He sat up and shucked his shirt off and looked up at her. “You want me to lay down or stay sittin’ up?”

“Let me get your back first, then you can lay down.”

Jon sat still and let her work, trying to let the hot water and her gentle hands untie the knots his worry was tying up in his mind. _Had she already said yes? Should he ask her again?_

Her nimble hands massaged his shoulder and he groaned, his head dropping forward. “That feels so good. Can't believe how sore I am from just layin’ here.”

“Sam made us exercise you,” she murmured near his ear, the warm cloth running down his back.

He hummed, curious.

“Your arms and good leg, we exercised them several times a day. Picking them up, bending them. He hoped it would help you not be so weak and sore once you woke up. Guess it didn't work, I'm sorry.”

He turned and looked up at her, laying a hand over hers where it rested on his shoulder. “It’s alright. I'll be good as new soon.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” she said and leaned down for a kiss.

Slipping his hand around the back of her neck to hold her still he pressed his lips to hers and whispered against them. “I love you, Dany.”

Her hand cupped his face, thumb running across his cheek bone. “I love you too. It's so good to have you back. I missed you more than I have words for.”

“I missed you too.”

Her soft puff of breath teased his ear. “You were asleep silly, how could you miss me?” she asked, straightening up and gently pushing him to lay down. She rinsed the rag and twisted out the excess water before picking up his arm and washing it.

“I feel like I did. My heart aches like I did anyway.”

She pressed her lips tight between her teeth and closed her eyes for a moment, then kissed his fingers. “You have to stop saying such sweet things or I'll cry again.”

“Sorry.”

“Don't be.”

He went quiet, letting her wash him up, her care soft and sweet. Maybe too much so. He was able to stay still and silent as she cleaned his arms and chest, even his stomach–though he flinched enough to make her smile teasingly. But when the rag trailed down his side to his hip, he couldn't take anymore. He grabbed her hand. “We got interrupted earlier.”

She turned to him and licked her lips, grinning. “Yes, we did,” she agreed softly and sat down beside him. She laid the rag back in the water dish and dried her hands on her apron before lacing her fingers with his. “I was wondering when you'd bring it back up.”

He swallowed, begging her with his eyes, and the Lord above too, that he'd get the answer he wanted. “You, uh… you never answered me.”

She leaned over him and smiled–that soft sweet one he loved so much that made her eyes squint just so. “Ask me again,” she whispered.

His breath left him, heart stopping, the words slipping passed his lips husky and hopeful. “Marry me, Dany?”

Her fingers traced down the side of his face, her smile growing brighter and even sweeter. “Of course I will. I want nothing more in this world than to marry you, Jon Snow. To marry you, to be yours and you mine, to love each other til we're old and grey.”

The air rushed out of him and he grabbed her gently, crushing his lips to hers, kissing her for all he was worth. “I love you,” he breathed, all the aches and pains, the worry and fretting, gone as if they had never been. He felt light as air.

“I know you do,” she whispered. “I know it in my heart, and I love you too.”

He opened his eyes and looked into the beautiful blue-green depths of hers. “You did read my letter. I saw it was gone. You found it and not someone else, right?”

She dropped her forehead to his. “I found it.”

His heartbeat faltered. “Why d’you sound so sad?”

“It was the most beautiful, horrible thing I've ever read.”

He jerked back, staring at her horror stricken. “What?”

Her face was wrenched with pain, doing nothing to ease his upset. “It tore my heart out, Jon. You tore my heart out, but you mended it too. I thought you were lost to me and your words were so beautiful… it was just all so much I wasn't sure if I would survive it.”

“I'm sorry, I never meant—”

She pressed her lips to his, cutting off his apology. “Hush. I will cherish that letter always, and I wouldn't change a word of it, or you.”

He kissed her again, couldn't seem to stop and neither could she. So they reacquainted themselves with each other, lips and hands and eyes taking in all they could until they were breathless. They both wanted so much more, but knew it wasn't possible yet. They settled for holding one another, soaking in all the joy and peace they could.

She was laying across his chest while he ran his fingers through her hair when he remembered he wasn't quite done asking her. “The ring? Is it too big, or did you not like it?” He cursed his nerve shook voice and cleared his throat to rid himself of it. “We can go pick out a different one. I shoulda asked what size and what ya wanted ‘fore I went.”

She popped up and put a hand to his cheek. “Shhh, my love. I know I'll love it once I see it.”

That was the last thing he'd expected to hear. “You didn't open it? Not even a peek?” he asked, his eyebrows up in shock.

She shook her head, smiling. “No, not even a peek.”

He studied her face for a long moment, his heart falling under shadowy fears. “You don't want it.”

She pulled a face and grabbed his chin, pinching and shaking it gently. “Jon Snow, you know better than that. I didn't look because I wanted the moment to be everything you hoped it would.”

He did know better, and scolded himself for letting his worries get the best of him. As for it being everything he had hoped, well that had already been made a mess of. He squeezed her. “Go get it for me?”

Her smile started small, but grew quickly into one of giddiness as she got up and crossed the room. He couldn't contain his own any better. She placed the little box in his open hand the moment she returned, and his heart trembled. If she happened not to like it, he'd take her back to Tormund's and let her pick a new one.

“I'd get down on bended knee, but…”

“I kinda like that you're laying in bed half naked,” she giggled and his nerves melted into a peaceful calm.

He grinned as she sat down beside him again. “It’s not what I had planned, but as long as you're happy.” He flipped the lid open with his thumb and turned it toward her.

She gasped, hand over her mouth, misty eyed and smiling. “Oh Jon! It's a snowflake! It's perfect.”

“Really?” he asked, unable to bite back his doubt.

She nodded emphatically, crying in earnest, but her smile never disappeared.

“Should I ask you proper? Three times for good measure?” She laughed and nodded again, wiping at her eyes. Heart threatening to come out of his chest, he did. “Daenerys Targaryen, will you do me the honor of becomin’ my wife?”

“Yes,” she breathed and grasped his face, kissing him all over just as she had when he'd woke. “I love you, I love you, I love you. So, so much.”

He was laughing, couldn't help it, he'd never seen her so happy and that was all he'd wanted. His Dany, happy as she could be. “I love you too, now let me put it on you.”

She sat back and let him up. He pulled the ring from its velvet bed and took her trembling hand in his. She was still crying and sniffling, but giggling too as he slipped it on. Miracle of miracles, it fit, perfectly.

“You couldn't have picked a better one,” she whispered, her tears welling up all the more.

“You really love it? Sure ya don't wanna see what else Brienne's got.”

She shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not. It's perfect, just like you.”

He cupped her face and pulled her in for another kiss. “Good, then we're all even.”

*~*

“Do you want to wait till spring?”

His bath was done and she was snuggled up beside him in bed, still smiling down at her ring, twisting it back and forth to catch the light. Seeing it on her finger was one of the prettiest sights he's ever seen.

She shook her head. “No. I would do it right now if we had a preacher or judge here.”

He laughed and kissed her temple. “I would too. But I'd at least like to be able to stand first. Give me a few days?”

“How about two weeks or so? Jeor promised to come back and walk me down the aisle. I want to give him time to mourn Jorah.”

Pressing his lips together, he nodded. “I'll be ready and waitin’. You just tell me when.”

Her eyes dropped to his chest and she grinned, biting into her lip. “We won't wait too long, or tongues will wag.”

He snorted. “I think we're past that, lass.”

Her long lashes lifted and those sea green eyes of hers sparkled and shined at him. He didn't think she'd ever stop stealing the air from his lungs. He reached over and brushed her silvery hair from her face, wishing he had the strength to lay her down and show her how much he loved her. _Soon, he promised himself. Sam's rules be damned._

“I think they’ll wag a little harder when the bride has grown a bit thick around the middle,” she said.

His heart stopped. All of him did, her words freezing him in shock. And a fragile joy.

She smiled slow and soft and shook him. “Breathe Jon. I'm done with fearing you'll die on me.”

He cupped her cheek, a well of warmth swelling from his chest and flushing every inch of him. His eyes stung. “A baby…” he breathed.

She brought herself closer, laying a hand over his heart and nodded, her own eyes growing liquid. “It's early yet, but yes. A baby, yours and mine. Happy birthday, my love.”

Jon pulled her down, pressing his forehead to hers, his throat too thick to pass words through. If his feeble body wasn't such an issue he'd grab her up and dance around the room. As it was he thought his heart may burst from happiness and kill him then and there.

He kissed her. Through laughter and tears. His and hers. “Lord, I love you. So damn much.”

She giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “I love you more, Jon Snow.”

“This is the best birthday I ever had. Gettin’ a wife, and a baby? Luckiest man alive.”

“I'm pretty lucky too,” she agreed.

He pulled her close and kissed her again. “Not as lucky as me.”

 _Lord Almighty, he was going to be a father._ He could barely wrap his mind around it. He'd dreamed of it, wanted it with her in the years to come, but he never thought it would happen so soon. He brought his eyes back to his bride-to-be and their first night together came back to him, and her words. _There will no babies made until we choose to._ She looked as happy as a songbird in spring as she gazed back at him, but they hadn't chose this.

_Was she really and truly happy? Had she said yes only because they had created a life? No, no. Dany loved him every bit as much as he did her. He was torturing himself for nothing, he knew it in his heart, doubts be damned._

But he wanted to know when they might have brought this miracle to be. He brushed her hair back from her face and rubbed his thumb along her jaw. “You said it was early. How long you think? We were always careful.”

Her eyes narrowed slyly and she grinned. “Mmm, not always. The night in the barn, our fight? I wasn't wearing it.”

“Well, damn,” he chuckled. “Won't that be a story to tell?”

She laughed with him. “It will. It would serve us right for them to come out howling and wild and stay that way.”

“Lord, I hope not, but we'll know why if they do.” Her hand was laying over his heart, he grabbed it and kissed her fingers. “Tell me you're happy.”

“Jon, don't you dare fret.” She leaned close and kissed him. “There isn't a woman on this Earth any happier than me right now.”

He winked at her. “Just wanted to make sure.” She rolled her eyes at him, but smirked all the same. His fingers found their way into her hair. “How you been feelin’?”

“Only a little queasy in the mornings so far.”

“Good, hopefully you won’t have to be too sick. Who else knows? Did ya get Sam to look ya over while he was here?”

She shook her head. “Marg is the only one who does. It's best to wait, just in case. It could have been the stress last time, but it could have been my body too.”

He frowned at that. “Shhhh, you're gonna be fine and so is our little one. All the bad's behind us, only good things are comin’. But I don't think it'd hurt to let Sam know so he can keep an eye on ya.”

“Okay.”

“Are you tired? I hate to say it, but you look like you ain't slept in days. I wanna kick myself for scarin’ you, especially now. Wasn't good for you or and the baby.”

“Stop. You’re awake and here with me, with us,” she said taking his hand in hers and placing them over her tummy. “I am exhausted, but I can rest now. We both can.”

He nodded and carefully turned himself over as she settled herself beside him, their arms around each other tight.

It was hard to believe all the stress and strain and fear of the last few months was really over. He figured it would sink in soon enough once he was up and going again. The boys were coming back, him and Robb would heal up, he'd marry Dany, her and Marg would grow with the next pack of youngin's. Arya might too. They'd all survived. He wasn't sure of all that was next for them, but he knew it'd be good, whatever it was.

“Jon,” her whisper broke through his thoughts. He rubbed her back, giving a hum to let her know he was still awake. “I think I'm too happy to sleep.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Me too, but let's try, at least for a little while.”

“Okay. I love you. Thank you for coming back to me.”

His heart clenched at her soft words. He leaned back and looked into her eyes. “I told ya, with you is the only place I wanna be.”

“I'm going to hold you to that.”

“I'd expect no less.”

 

*~*

 

There was a sudden ruckus out front and Jon couldn’t help but grin from his place on the couch. They had his leg propped on a chair, a pillow for cushion. He'd be stuck there till it was time for bed.

The door opened and suddenly the house was filled with the noise of an over excited six year old. “I’m back!” Rickon screamed as he ran through the house and straight into the kitchen, his heavy footfalls echoing through every room, as they all laughed.

It was Margaery who caught him on his way back through. “We’re all in here my silly boy,” she said as she pulled him into a long hug.

He threw his little arms around her and squeezed. “Margaery, I missed ya.”

They all watched as tears slipped from her closed eyes even though she was smiling. “Oh, I missed you too. So, so much!” she breathed.

He let her go and turned to the rest of them. His eyes landed on Robb first as he was the closest. He ran up to him, only to stop when he noticed Robb’s arm in a sling. His little brows knit in concern. “What happened?”

Robb rubbed his head of curls. “Had some bad people come up here and try to hurt us. But we got em. It’s all over.”

“You alright?”

“I am,” Robb assured him with a smile. “Just gotta hug ya with this arm,” he said as he wrapped him in a hug. Rickon stayed and investigated his sling for a moment then looked around again.

He spotted Jon next and dashed across the room, but was caught mid air by Dany. “Hold on there little man. You can’t be jumping on Jon either,” she warned gently.

Stiffening in her arms, he looked her over, scowling. He reached up and touched her hair. “Miss Storm, who did this to your hair?”

She smiled, laughing softly. “I did. This is what color it used to be. Before I moved here.” He continued to finger the tresses and she finally tilted her head. “Do you not like it?” she asked, her eyebrows twisted in question.

He frowned deep in concentration. “I don’t know. I don’t hate it.”

She laughed and rubbed his nose with hers. “I’ll take that. Can I have a proper hug?”

He threw his arms around her neck and she pressed a kiss to his hair, holding him tightly, rocking him a bit. “Oh, I’ve missed you so very much. I'm so glad you're home.”

His frown was still in place as he pulled away. She put him on the ground and knelt in the floor in front of him. “What's the matter?” she asked, teasing his pouty bottom lip with her finger.

“You and Jon didn’t visit like you said you would,” he said pitifully.

Jon could see the guilt run through Dany just as it did him.

“I know, sweet boy,” she cooed, hugging him again. “We're so sorry. We wanted to so badly, but we had a few important matters come up.” She exchanged a look with Jon. He wondered if his face looked as pained as hers. She let Rickon go and tilted his chin up. “But we missed you, terribly.”

His little brother shrugged and turned, looking at his leg, his little face all puckered. “Was you hurt, too?”

Jon gave a nod and held out his arms. Rickon climbed up beside him and went into them gently, laying his head on his chest. _Lord, he'd missed him._ “Ain’t nothin’ for ya ta worry ‘bout, now,” he told him, rubbing his back. “I’m gonna be right as rain ‘fore you know it.”

“Does it hurt?”

Jon sat him up. “Yeah. Which is why you can’t play with guns,” he told him firmly.

“Oh, I know,” he exclaimed, “Only Arya’s, and she's gotta be with me. We talked 'bout it on the way home.”

“Good,” he answered and smoothed down his curls. “Make sure ya don't forget.”

“Rickon, did you see the new barn?” Margaery asked from where she stood beside the window. He shook his head and ran over to her. Jon smiled to see his face light up.

Dany sat herself back beside him and slid her hand into his. He traced his thumb over the ring on her finger and her eyes met his, smiling and beautiful. He kissed her because he couldn't help it.

Missandei stepped into the open doorway. “Dinner is ready,” she said with a smile.

They heard a yelp from Rickon and turned to see him standing slack-jawed and wide-eyed staring up at Missandei. He was on the verge of blurting something out, but before he could, Margaery snatched him up and carried him into one of the backrooms.

“What was that about?” Dany leaned over and whispered into his ear.

“I don’t think Rickon has ever seen anyone like Missandei before. Might have shocked him a bit,” Jon explained. “I have a feelin’ Margaery is remindin’ him of his manners.”

“Has he not? Really?”

“I didn't til I joined the army. We're kinda isolated up here.”

She nodded and looked down the hall Margaery had taken Rickon through. “I’ve missed him so much, Jon. And I didn’t realize until now how much joy he brought to me.” She shook her head. “That’s not totally true,” she whispered. “I know he filled a void. He helped to mend the hole in my heart that losing my son had left in me. But it’s overwhelming,” she said as she looked at him, tears in her eyes.

He tugged on her hand and brought her into his arms. “It’s alright. He’s here. I imagine he’ll have you and Margaery singin’ for him most of the night.”

She chuckled at that. “I’ll do it, too,” she said as she kissed his cheek. “Maybe we just let him sleep with us to start with tonight?”

He snorted. “You’re spoilin’ him.”

She shrugged a shoulder, but didn’t deny it. The front door opened again and the sounds of creaks and grinds coming through the door made Jon's smile widen. He grasped Dany’s hand as Bran rolled into the living room, Arya and Gendry walking in behind him with all the boys’ things.

“Hey, Bran,” they all greeted him.

He stopped and looked between Jon and Robb, a dark look on his face. “Hey. Everythin’ alright?”

Jon took a deep breath, happy to finally have his family back together all under one roof again. “Perfect now you and Rickon are here.”

Dany got up and walked over to him and placed a kiss on top of his head. “And that’s the truth. We missed you.”

Bran gave her a smile. “I missed all a’ you too.” He looked around, frowning. “Where’s Rickon?”

Their little brother came from the back and walked over and sat down by Jon again. “I was talkin’ to Margaery.”

She came from the back bedroom and joined Dany at Bran’s side. “Welcome home, dear boy.” She kissed his hair just as Dany had done.

He smiled at her too. “Hey Margaery. It’s good to be home.”

Dany rejoined Jon on the sofa and he shifted a bit as she pulled Rickon into her arms. His little brother leaned back into her, soaking in as much love as she was willing to give. “Bran, how ‘bout ya come over here and let me tell ya the big news.” Bran rolled his chair over to them, looking curious. Jon took Dany’s hand in his and noticed the rest of his family was circling around as well. He turned to Rickon and gave him a smile. “You remember what ya told me ‘fore Robb and Margaery got married?”

He wrinkled his nose and tilted his head. “Bout marryin’ her so we didn’t need two weddin’s?”

Jon chuckled. “Yeah, and what did I tell ya?”

“That ya had ta ask her proper first. Did ya?!” Jon winked at him and Rickon twisted his head back and looked at Dany with wide eyes. “What’d ya say?”

“I said I’m gonna marry you instead,” she teased, tickling him.

“You said yes, right?” Bran interrupted, his usual matter-of-fact tone gone, replaced instead with the hope of a young boy.

Dany nodded. “I certainly did.” She held her hand out to let the boys look at her ring but other smiling faces were peering in and around too.

The house filled with happy voices, everyone congratulating them at once. Jon got some pats on the back and Dany a few hugs, both of their cheeks glowing by the end.

Once things had calmed a bit Rickon tugged on Dany's hand. “So, you’re gonna stay forever?”

She squeezed him tight and kissed his cheek. “I’m staying forever. We’re already building our house up on the hill. And guess what? It’ll have a room for you both and easy access for Bran, so he can come and go as he wants.”

Bran's eyes glowed bright at that. “Thanks.”

Missandei appeared in the doorway again. “Alright, the food is going to get cold if you don’t come eat it. Jon, you stay where you are and we’ll bring yours to you,” she commanded. Rickon and Bran both went into the other room, the other members of his family following.

He held back on Dany’s hand. “You sure ya wanna be tied with me forever?”

She gave him a bright smile. “Yes. Ask me again, though, and Rickon will become a permanent fixture in our bed.”

He laughed and pulled her in for a soul rattling kiss, but a sudden burst of singing had them pulling apart. He looked up surprised. His whole family was gathered at the doorway, Arya in the center, holding a big chocolate cake in her hands, the top ablaze with candles as they sang out _Happy Birthday_ to him.

Dany joined in, her beautiful voice along with Missandei's smoothing his family's out of tune attempts.

A blush burned his cheeks, but he smiled anyway, his heart overfull. He really was the luckiest man alive. They finally finished and he thanked them all, as Margaery and Missy cut the cake and passed out slices.

Bran rolled up just as Jon was about to have his first bite, holding a small parcel wrapped in shiny paper out toward him. “Happy Birthday, Jon.”

“Bran,” he gulped, taking it gently. “You didn't have to get me nothin’. But thank ya.”

His brother shrugged. “You deserve somethin’, and I had a lot of time on my hands.”

Dany took his plate from him and he unwrapped it, everyone watching him as he did so. He got the last of the paper off and revealed the gift. It was a wolf, delicately carved from a beautiful piece of white wood. A small, incredibly detailed replica of Ghost.

Jon looked up at his little brother, a bit awe struck at his skills. “Bran, this is amazin’. Thank you.”

Bran blushed and dropped his head. “You're welcome.”

“Wait, Jon!” Rickon hollered and jumped up from the floor. “I got ya somethin’ too!” He ran over to the piano and climbed onto the bench.

Everyone exchanged droll glances no doubt expecting an ear-splitting tune from him just as Jon did, but they were soon looking on in happy surprise as Rickon pecked out the birthday tune with a decent amount of skill. They all gave him a big round of applause once he was finished. He ran to Jon and Dany, blushing something fierce and hid his face between them.

Jon carefully dug him out of hiding and sat him on his lap, giving him a hug. “Thank you, little man. That was the best birthday present you could've gotten me. Who taught you that?”

“Sansa,” he mumbled in his neck.

Dany motioned for Grey to go to the piano before reaching over and rubbing Rickon's little back. “Hey Rickon, did you meet my friend Grey?”

His little brother let him go and looked at Dany, nodding his head. “When I went in the kitchen.”

“Did you know he can play the piano?” she asked. He shook his head. Dany pointed to Grey who was smiling gently at Rickon from where he sat on the piano bench. “Go sit with him, I'll bet he'll play for you. And if you want, me, Margaery, and Missy can sing for you too.”

Rickon didn't look so sure at first, then Grey ran his fingers over the keys, filling the room with the beginnings of a smooth jazz tune. His little brother's eyes went wide as saucers. “He can play better ‘an Sansa!”

“Come over here and sit with me,” Grey offered with a laugh. “I'll play you whatever you want, teach some too.”

Rickon was off Jon's lap and across the room in a heartbeat.

The rest of his birthday was spent with his family as they laughed and danced and sang until they were all wore out, his heart full to bursting as he watched.

They gathered in the kitchen that night, all but him and the boys helping to cook at one point or another. They each got their favorite meal, no matter what it was, or how much of a mess it left the kitchen. That was Gendry’s idea–the perfect way to end the happy day he'd said. They all agreed and sat around the table and had their fill, swapping stories that had them laughing until tears ran from their eyes.

At some point Rickon fell asleep leaned up against him, chocolate icing still marking his lips. Dany cleaned him up, bid everyone a quiet goodnight and carried him to bed once Margaery had placed a kiss on his cheek. Jon followed her slowly on his crutches, Gendry staying close until he made it to his room and was sitting on the bed.

Dany got Rickon tucked in and quickly changed into her gown before helping him undress and lay down as well. She squeezed in between him and Rickon, fearing his little brother may kick his leg during the night.

They were tucked beneath a thick layer of quilts, snug as could be, Dany holding Rickon and Jon holding her. She turned her head and offered her cheek. He kissed it, squeezing her tight as they whispered their love to one another.

Jon fell asleep that night happier than he ever remembered being.


End file.
